Thursday, February 3, 2011
In the Background, What Was Created Is Now Undone
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Weeping we leapt from pillar of infantile midsummer
into mechanical haste and hatred
vats of oil rend us down
to a thing of no particular commercial value
the apocalypse is here
and catches up to us before suicide
at last! something to live for!
madness employs us,
our days spent drowning in nature
our misfortune a breath of fresh air
through which we descend,
having thrown ourselves from the various windows.
we and our fellow, Caliban,
a disgrace to hell.
you are guiltless, your nature is sufficient
the traces of your testimony
demented, escaped from
simple moral consequence
and you are of little consequence
with complex teeth you
help the sinner gain asylum
though your grade is wrongful slander
you are preserved in the suggestion of snow,
I remember, now, that
you must first have memory
for memory to be lost.