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On the Trail of the Iguana.

“Battle-Hymn of the Hemophiliac”

Surrender to an intuition of snow
—night blackened by the sound.
Whatever love bestowed
the storm brings down.
Caladiumgang steroids your soulless self
answers; & your selfless soul disperses.
On the other side of this erection courses
a river so cold because it knows the Gulf.
Because it knows the Gulf & you do not,
you fill the night with lamps, & let that note
infiltrate the mem'ry of a thaw:
the only call for those who, stalking the wolf,
surrender to an intuition of snow.

"You don't speak German, Tom."

"Income: some coin.

#palindromebypairs" —@anthonyetherin.bsky.social

Resignation.