1. <menuitem id="hptte"><strong id="hptte"></strong></menuitem>
      <track id="hptte"></track>


        The Ghost Has No Home


            by Jeff Clark

            This morning in an alleyway I was startled by a face

            I seemed to recognize, in a dormer above a garage

            and so slunk up to him, who was ranting quietly,

            mauling the mind of some imagined ear out the pane

            as if maligned, or high, like one

            moony and almost witless in a poppy ditch,

            or one waking ill and supine

            in a wet bed of opening mullein:

            "I have no desire to theorize language——

            I was raised modestly and have sinned unspeakably.

            I would rather waylay and destroy

            whose voice molests me."

            On his desk a thin book I knew, a tragedy

            whose residue was a Sentry's couplet I half-knew

            and began to recite——startling him who turning was outwardly

            unknown to me——, "'Does it hurt in your ears——'"

            "Fuck Antigone——I detest language, I detest artifice,

            I would rather waylay and molest

            the beast that has imagined and pent me here."


        留言與評論(共有 0 條評論)

        1. <menuitem id="hptte"><strong id="hptte"></strong></menuitem>
          <track id="hptte"></track>
            <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <蜘蛛词>| <文本链> <文本链> <文本链> <文本链> <文本链> <文本链>