Apr 30, 2009


Ingot seeks metronome
pallor. A greedy double
does not measure up for
disaffected rust. A handful
of stars tumble through an ocean
of not, bleeding vanilla
yogurt. Take the name of that bird
& hide it away; gastropod
fixative for votive
tree. A flash beside
the pot-bellied stove like a furnace
on fire, a blanket of
corduroy, foul-tempered smock
smoked in action. Murder
junipers & cello tuber
motifs. Everything is made
of wood, and eveything must be
made to look a good three
years younger.

1 comment:

Bonsō Wrokks said...

That was great! :D :D :D

I'm actually in the middle of translating this episode into English properly for the first time, I would love to squeeze this in somewhere.