Thursday, November 04, 2010

tentative notes from the village of dust

not sleeping and not
breathing and instead she is found
in a suitcase at the bottom
of a lake

the rules of war are spelled out
in blood and in shit across
the bedroom walls of
all your lovers

it’s okay, you see

you can laugh
in the face of atrocity

you can eat the
ashes of witches

cut holes in the
body of the christ child

bask in the glory of whatever
dim light shines through

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