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burnunit(Wednesday, September 04, 2002 )
Here they come the gnats to gnaw on that confectionary memory: there's nothing to it in your guts, my love! I longed again for him last night except that in that dusted cotton morning there was only the sugar, only the redness and the hundreds dead. Or the red grass and smitten ones, the reflections of the little things clutched tightly to bosoms tighter still.
You see them? The veins on their foreheads or the veins on their streets? You see them, the mutters amid the muster, the dissent among the ascending.
Icarus! Kiki! Tiny bastard wisdoms for us, immediately! Low-cut locust women appear and sway mightily, coming toward the table. Smiles all around for the vegetables are now ripe and dusted so carefully with lavender.
Pull me together, please; I want the magnified ones, the harmonies and caroms of spittle.
Here they come the gnats to gnaw on that confectionary memory: there's nothing to it in your guts, my love! I longed again for him last night except that in that dusted cotton morning there was only the sugar, only the redness and the hundreds dead. Or the red grass and smitten ones, the reflections of the little things clutched tightly to bosoms tighter still.
You see them? The veins on their foreheads or the veins on their streets? You see them, the mutters amid the muster, the dissent among the ascending.
Icarus! Kiki! Tiny bastard wisdoms for us, immediately! Low-cut locust women appear and sway mightily, coming toward the table. Smiles all around for the vegetables are now ripe and dusted so carefully with lavender.
Pull me together, please; I want the magnified ones, the harmonies and caroms of spittle.