:
i s s u e
n o 1
POETRY
N I C H E
See your life as allegory, as discourse. Though you are not right in your mind, the innocence of your childhood is evident.
can be easily destroyed? It’s true. Walk your milk-white body down to the end of the driveway.
The rosy redness of the atom bomb was not your fault. Pull your coat close around you to keep out the chill of reason.
Stare into the cloudless sunset and you’ll soon greet the Four Horsemen, come for the Rapture:
Keep gloves on at all times to resist sanity’s frostbite. There is no earthly place to receive you now. All that you fear
Data (palomino), Fast Food (dark bay), Global Warming (chestnut), And Cacophony (pinto).
will come true. Marie LaVeau predicted it. She stood at the edge of Bayou St. John, sang, “As the nails of the dead continue to grow, so will whatever love you leave behind you.” Keep yourself clear of sophistication. Keep clear of cool. That shit will envelope your life— your life as allegory, as discourse. Do you know that anything easily discerned
There will be revelations. There will be distortions of revelations. But you— you must continue to gather the splinters of yourself and see the end product: a life, your life, as allegory, as discourse.
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