closure-driven anguish clowns in autumn's spill
a Vegasy attempt at oomph
Random # 329 = 650 in base-7; 6 + 5 + 0 = 11 lines
i never play my 45s
though i have half a hundred
forgetfulness's thousand knives
& i are kindred
their being scratched is but a plus
& having to adjust the speed
while bombs are being signed in blood
& scams in grease
these songs are most of all themselves
falling like so many leaves
& redolent of nothing else
"I often wondered what happened to him."
No comments:
Post a Comment