uutpoetry:A Delicatessen is an Impasse A delicatessen is an impasse: unchurched but unspilled; a s
uutpoetry: A Delicatessen is an Impasse A delicatessen is an impasse: unchurched but unspilled; a small, curvilinear dog on a Midwest plateau the Thursday before two great cities shall, in the backhand stroke of a tree branch, clash upon the red hair of law. It is an unopened pint of ale laughing at me on a cold winter afternoon by drained fountains all roped about with yellow tape. It is a growling uncle stuck in dry grasses on an a ship of bibliokleps and camerawomen. Oh vinegar chips and pop and collared shirts! —like Bulgarian water and Vermonter momma’s boys chilling out on quinquagesiman isotherms— I have thy impious knots, secular, adhesive, collecting in my flask of salami mink. -- source link