Saturday, February 25, 2006

   "Potatory Inlet

this
thing, this
morass.

not are you out of it
yet:
having to walk with your
head turned away all the time,
gives a stiff neck
& you keep tripping.

but me, I
parted with that piñata
a long ways back.
O, I can't more than
crawl
with the floor this canted &

really wish
all my stuff hadn't fallen
down there out of reach but
I know where I stand
in this thing, this
tender boggy quagmire

fathomless
--not infinite"

--Rush Mahogany, Th* Harbrac* of Psoriasis (1967)

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