abarberisthemostsavoryangeltothepsyche
The
Prefix of this City rots on the (pre-) anal that I Wed: Before you Read this, Before your Absence only Becomes a Backdrop, I Want you to Kiss
Me. I am Writing some sort of coo,
as this is Stumbling towards the Finality
of a Stroke: a Sound that is Retinaled
from the Ear into Solitude. A Barber, as
Izsus said, is the most Savory Angel to
the Psyche. I Have Hung my Wet Clothes
up, and Succumbed to the Domestic link to Glory. This is the pits, is the Least of the Disappointments
that I Heard. “But you See-Them Tits
on Page 49, Ah, Flip to the Other
Side…” A Disaster Within or Withsome Accrues
in a City as the Romancing Shock of the Conclusive end to the Body, where this
Rapture surely Congregates with the
Speed of One Man Skedaddling out the fucking Door, out the fucking White Pages. With a Mouthful of Cereal, I Reiterate that I
am in the Midst of some Serious Writing. I Have Heard and Returned to this
Horror a Thousand Erect Times. You can Ob—
|| as I Literates a Time for a Lisp
that Careens over the Commandeering Clap of
a Command. And Peeling-Back this little Day-Dream
for a Seasoned Heart and the other Lilt Complaints that Populate this mouf.
in other words: At Least, I
Factored-Off into a State of Chicago Broken-Off from the Rest of this Rubed World. The Fact that I have Enemies, does Not Mean that I have Allies. It is Rather Funny, how in Youth, we Confide
in the City, to Begin to Wonder Why. She
tells me: this Present has a Sub-Present
that Presides Over Desire. And-Wouldn’t-You-Know: I was Just
Beginning to Feel Aroused. And I Keep
Telling Myself, that I am Alive, only through this Consistent Motion, this
Consistent Wild-Eyed-Desire to Hit
the Allusive Rock. I Guarantee this
Sentence shall Arrive just as, as is. I Accumulate your Absences into this Room, so
that in Time, they Shall-Grow so
Large, that it Builds a Bridge that Runs Right-Through
you, but Never-Into you. And so
it Goes, And as it Goes it Sows. And I tell Her every Night: I have just
one more Errand to Run, and then I Swear, that I Will Lie next to you, for the
Remainder of this Night. Calm and Perhaps.