2. why should there be mercy?
i wish i could wright
a haiku sonnet
that death is motionless
there is no last word just as there is no first, huh?
oh, i see, why?
a small alphabet indicating separation of the speaker from the subject,
parentheses implied, perhaps,
but never punctuation,
(The laws of grammar are a bourgeois affectation whose only purpose is to indicate a certain education whilst masking the absence of a particular thought, designed entirely to prevent the base passions of those who sweated for a living from leaking into ladies’ drawingrooms. They are a veneer barricade that must be stormed.)
Technical Exercise #142. Create the illusion of conversation, separate voices involved in the act of inspiracy, yo ho ho me hearties,
Place food sensually inscribed by cutlery, a letteropening carving knife, a sudden failure to misunderstand, a quick motion, up against the hardness of the wall and searching stubby fingers parting thighs.
Some consent required, of course, since we have dressed them in such complicated clothes.
It felt like a life and death battle between the instrument and my self, as if it were not possible without invitation, a burden passed on.
afterwards, just artefacts, trickling like the trails of soldier crabs on sand, these lines maybe and the sound of the tide extinguishing the last embers of a dying piano,