Postcard to Gerard Nerval
Is this “crazed packrat of esoteric lore”
worth the finding after
the bandages are thrown off?
Labyrinthian hoarders my brother my sister!
Every wall opening
Egyptian eyes to stare at you.
The unmedicated, unmediated soul
Is the pyramid pressing down on
your ache-mixed body.
The soul swallows
shit and ambrosia indifferently
while shakes mug the victim
and this ransom demand
in scrawled on a torn off newspaper page
-- ALL OF POSTERITY.
Yeah.
Good luck with that.
2.
On Rue des archives
The infinitely heavy night
far older than this bauble world
falls weighted by moons on street-bound me
and I go under and out with it.
As though some pot bellied Greek god
raping for rape’s sake thrust his snout
into my very roots.
And so I play, bottom-feeder me
With the roots of the Indo-European
tongue.
“Tupp (cock) named for its crest, comb”
“skoli young dog,
kale bitch”
Night, ex-lover, bill collector, bummer
Swims in the muddy puddles
Where my face, the face of summer
dimly huddles.
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