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Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Doss-house Supplementum TertiƦ Partis

His heart is way beyond the raw damp tree
destitute Hartz mountains on a featureless plain
which he is not about to remember much.

he has no idea how he fell why
there is red wet pouring why he feels no pain
apart from hands who these two are exploring his sudden
mystery

One shrieks, finds work fussing,
imploring, consoling, asking, explaining, deploring; another
in Gregory of Nyssa (apparently) and the Summa Theologica, reading new

meanings into ancient regulations. But he begins to hurt. Is sat
down. A siren from somewhere and alien. Neither bricks nor plywood satisfy lust but he has at least the trick to search

beer.

At home his wife has learnt to fill holes
as all wives who are left alone must.
Making do her lot.

God is in blood.
A crust forms.
Earned or
not.

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