PROSE SCAN

It's maximum output: constant subvocal rumination. The mind's attempt to establish silence, perhaps: by expelling all impressions, negating all reflection, projecting all functions. Dead bodies are politely moved to the side, and activity continues.

It is like a pyramid with no exterior: its blindness is its sight.

GET BEHIND ME IXTAB

Death has its attractions

suicide its charms,

this we know.

So, watch out for Ixtab:

her theatre is pretty wide,

her borderline

totally unguarded.

No wall there; no assholes

screaming ‘get lost!’

In other words it’s even easier

to stray into her zone

than into hell.

You know, I’m kind of a wild man,

but I will take the long way around Ixtab.

Give her respect:
she's a seducer

and everything she touches

turns to perfect.

So, watch out for Ixtab,
notwithstanding what the fuck we
already know, 
i.e., that
suicide hath its charms

and death its many attractions.

collage by TC

Problem for October 17, 2019

False friends who knowingly recommend stupid poets to you
--or did so any number of years ago--calculating (and perhaps mocking)
the stages of your comprehension of such a slight...

...are impressive,
perhaps superior
but must be abandoned

like abortive trips
to really high-end grocery stores.

DELIBERATION for October 15, 2019

When it's all over there are still these:
repellent people who use their money 
to dress themselves repellently 
and talk loudly in public.
What literary form can stop them?
What argument can even 
retard their success?
But the real question is simply this:

whether to put these people to the        sword
or to SHATTER ALL WORLDS.