"And I can feel a telescope pointed at me like a revolver" —Vicente Huidobro (tr Weinberger)
"a sick hand on the thermostat"
grasp at something cesspilled
sucker without doubt upshot
boxcar into bad riddles
obey crueler death weather
your children sent chanting
church stories besmirch darkness
next to me knave driver
nerves like mine, as whine-fervent
The earliest visual language of Iran.
No comments:
Post a Comment