1.
the holy drinker cracks his third for auld
lang syne, and crackling for his rosh hashanah.
2.
let boland raingods piss on this his cold
and unmooned mecca, let medina call.
he'll slit his styx-dipped tendons just to fall
on trojan soil: tonight he is no runner.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
TWO LA CHAIMS FOR A SODDEN EID
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hedgewood.