January 29th 2019
She liked the poem. Frames bought for it, up on the wall in the Little Black Box like giant fridge-poetry, she says. Makes me think of George Barker, then a play came on the radio about Elizabeth Smart. Having her sends out ineluctable tentacles in search of meaning, which is what coincidence is.
The good life for a man, as Crow has taught us, is a life of coincidence. Grab chance by the slacknape skin of the neck, shake the hell out of it, and eat it.
She liked the poem. Frames bought for it, up on the wall in the Little Black Box like giant fridge-poetry, she says. Makes me think of George Barker, then a play came on the radio about Elizabeth Smart. Having her sends out ineluctable tentacles in search of meaning, which is what coincidence is.
The good life for a man, as Crow has taught us, is a life of coincidence. Grab chance by the slacknape skin of the neck, shake the hell out of it, and eat it.
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