Saturday, November 29, 2003

POEM OF THE DAY O CLOCK A cock, a doodle, of jaunty duration— The tyranny of is lisps ukases in an orotund sacristy, assumes the travesty of vestment— The muscle of tock marks time ticking off its dooms each second a collapsed cathedral in a sack, a baroque piglet in a pulse of velvet, squealing zeros as it drowns in the blue whine of blood, the flesh fissures' tremolo— A sock, a doll, a living doll, of her. Dana Pattillo (PoD 72) 10:12:43 PM    comment []