Whoever is
uprooted himself uproots others.
“We elected a man with mental illness—not that I have anything
against mental illness.” A tweet demands discipline at the level of
the morpheme. Let there be an arms race!--six short sounds and an
exclamation. A fascist poetry
takes image as fact, metaphor as act. Trump
Tower fucks with us. Question
of the day: what kind of animal is the Grinch? Is he dog or is he
dragon? Should we walk or slay him? We
prefer myth to morning walk when myth makes us agents, our names
preceding the strong
verbs our instructors demand of us. My Netflix queue includes
Human Centipede 3, named the
second worst film of 2015. It's all act: castration, cannibalism,
kidney rape, clitoris candy. The
sound of the letter K lends itself to hate. The
debt is all ours.
--23
December 2016
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