We built for sustainability and blood. Fell off
the map. Unplanned. Intoxicated with our
own ability to manipulate her wings.
Indoctrinated the flox and fleurette. The
flocks of fissile material. Tincture of saffron.
Blood of our word. Turn your face and
speak not the name. Hairbrush of ivory
and smoke. Gift of the last elephant.
Tiger tail. Tornado of bones and buds.
Soup of stones. Pressed into service.
Drank our own urine when the fish paste
died. Turn the wheel. Use this to stop the bleeding.
Mother, we're sorry. We just didn't know.
Now, take her downstairs for the interrogation.
[thought dream 040309]
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Parisian Bird Cabinet Blues
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4 comments:
Great/terrifying poem.
Great/terrifying images.
And those were the least disturbing of his images. If you click on one, it will take you to others.
But be forewarned...
Spooky photos :)
Hey Crystal.
Yes. They're by Joel-Peter Witkin.
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