Monday, November 07, 2005

HYMN FOR PROMETHEUS
A hand reaches in
to the open wound of the world
and extracts its own liver
to feed the vultures.

They are hungry
and he will grow
a new one tomorrow, spreading
his flesh like bread.

2 comments:

Joe Merrick said...

That's one fucked-up first spam comment. North versus South indeed.

Anyway Titus, this reminds me of a crazy short-story/dream I once had and rewrote, way back in the HIL microforms days ... something about going bugfuck nuts dealing with genealogists all day every day leading my protagonist to burn the library to the ground, only to discover it intact the next day as he showed up to work bright and early ... you see, he'd trained the library to anticipate the daily burning and they reacted by having round-the-clock construction and reshelving crews ... and they always ordered new books in triplicate at least.

J

e. said...

would you like to buy some cotton?

Just wondering.