Friday, November 06, 2009





    "Pirates Versus Ninjas" (Pessoa XXXIII.)

The last of the happy noise-makers advance
across hissing cinders. Watch your back.
The labyrinth of night, plant filigree chance,
mouths at Ground Zero yelp the lack.
Sound of rainfall. Gunfire. One over nought;
prayer that's painted on the gallows screens.

Lost--i have lost this morning's thought
dome that once for me was ways and means,
tennis shoes in the dryer. Honks confer
among themselves, and what it is they give
pelf the mad pasta, frowning bedposts err
and my numbers go negative.

I have a hunch like psychedelic Gumby [be]
i shall be stretched, not broken. Blessèd be.


Thread on music from Soviet Georgia.


Don't Think I've Forgotten.

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