Monday, February 12, 2007


It's what's wanted before death, but after the birth has finished with its meal, sat down to rest and look at what the stork's cooked up in hell's kitchen. Girls named after it deny they can say anything but love as they take off emerald clothes, smoke French cigarettes. A city enforces it absence, vomits up its remains, a full skeleton with feathers, unable to fly out of the beast's belly. Students read about it in history class, unable to fully believe it'll happen for them: the first time a train doesn't run on time, the second they don't agree with what the TV says, the third infantry division of life they march in, heading toward rising seas, disappearing lands.


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