December 2010
4 posts
I guess you get to a point where you look at that pain as if it were there in front of you three feet away lying in a box, an open box, in a window somewhere. It’s hard and cold, like a bar of metal. You just look at it there and say, All right, I’ll take it, I’ll buy it. That’s what it is. Because you know all about it before you even go into this thing. You know the...
Love poem in the shape of a cochlear mechanism
The human ear a plastic thing. When the boy returned to Kansas City the ringing where the girl was told him that America was ruthless and full
of silly coins. There was, inside the memory, the rumour of a dollhouse; all the furniture in immaculate order. When the sound panel exploded a hand
was put forward once, then withdrawn. The country...