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Archive for March 26th, 2010

By William Merricle

Chris hunkers
over the crustable,
reads acapella his
Manifesto Pour Lovers
Avec Baseball Bats,
holds his cupless coffee
between his thighs,
mutters how
the slurry of the abyss is
garnished with baby’s breath,
the stars are united
by rusty chains and runny noses,
and the shattered lord is
amongst us right here, right
now in this Kafkaesque
white castle of death.
Finished, he resumes
nuzzling the donut
he has named
Heimlich.

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