Friday, March 25, 2011

rounding the cape

(not february, but march entering april)

last night i let another woman into my bed who spun me epileptic through the rain & left me loveless this morning : now the cathartic streaming of intestines stretches straight backwards through my mouth stringing me south, toward the pole : all of the mind's ideas have long been scraped inside-out and left humorless to the galley's scoff : over and over along the red ice at dusk, they say either do it, or leave me with my own skin shrinking past history : I have no longer the desire to caress anymore the day's pleasures, nor drive them all mad with being : Amundsen bellows catastrophic from behind us: Much lay between that moment and the next time we should see her. The mighty ocean on one side, and the unknown region of ice on the other; so many things might happen. Her flag floats out, waves us a last adieu, and disappears. We are on our way to the South. :

& in the street, all the children run, mocking the midnight procession of pigs, shouting, cassoulet! cassoulet!










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