The landscape of Inferno has only gotten more beautiful by the day.
Drink! Drink for me, all you debauched souls. Non-committal and slovenly,
I am always looking for something to decipher by the altar of the Great Psychosis.
Pitstop Lover, I have lear'ned of your voluminous heart-kills:
The unreported unverifiables of Puerto Bolivar; your ricochets of ricotta;
The dendrological notes of the world's augmentors, and propellants;
The banished boy from Tulsa
Looking, staggering, resonating amongst the stagings of your ex's Ashkenazi hindsight;
Your practice as a Jina… They are all of me ...Read more