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2005-05-09 - 3:10 a.m.

aged recruiter
silly and vulgar
the sun can't tell what the earth recovers

friends slide into and out of
black suits
coming to recruit as they toot
their flutes

the wind's still strong
old songs are resung

it takes time to get back
to reach the soft atlas

the family is hopefully vague
like a prosthetic lague
where does it end

right now a show of
the difference between salt and the sea
puking up current lunch
beneath an old tree

the smashing pumkings is on
and so is samuel beckett

and so the first dream
of sensory transcendence
means nothing

several shots, one to the chest is raptruous, the one to the scrotum was remarkable like a German history account, the one to the leg performed a severed artery, a fountain if you wish beneath exterminated intestines.

the shooter was a real party crasher.

 

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