Poetry
Summer 1994
Quotidian Spectres
November winds. Mammoths wheel and bay over librarial vaults. Somehow archaic pride, somehow our unforgivable promotion of slaughter in Salvador—they do not balance. I want them twisting on a single […]
Poetry
Summer 1994
Outtakes
He wanted the synthesis and the mêlée, wanted to eat himself, be utterly outside himself, to keep on perishing. Wanted the kinks in the muss, the stuff stuck to the […]