In this delightful place, whose
exquisitely carved windows
look out over the caliche,
I lost my European hair.
My wires reach her brain.
It is a brain of Nothingness.
In there go the dictionaries.
Madame madame in memory of all America shrub flag line bangs wind
He beamed like he was telling me he wrote for a living, like that exists.
there will be no more lie detector tests or astonishing new pieces of information.
Today my hands have nothing to do. Nothing to cut. It is almost winter again.
Capitalism is natural; Capitalism is not natural.
She shredded the bloody fish with her fingers, stuffing it into her mouth skin, bone, and all.
