Monday, December 6, 2010

the goods

Sometimes I borrow from fear

I am old-fashioned like that

Like a parrot's beak going through a jellyfish

This is fun

Chyme is an accidentally beautiful word
also how a poem feels about the world

"the goods" are only a Luminous Flux

The word only exists because Language is a terrible Mother

She teaches you disappointment with such words

She doesn't even breast-feed anymore

She abandoned her La Leche league

What are you getting Language for Mother's Day?

I bet you're going to make that stupid handprint again

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