Sunday, September 05, 2004

1.36



We shall have to kill you, if you refuse to believe,
They said, as the uncroyable finally caught up.
—Non l’avrei giammai creduto, ma farò quel que potrò,
as Orestes the Dissoluto
lights last cigarette
from their pentecostal flames.

—I shall stand firm, though it means the long drop,
Too late now for any different—a different me, I ‘d not live
     happily with him,
And still seems to own something of a smirk,
Dissoluto, is it to be the drab burger and fries the posse decree
     for you,
In their expeditiousness, now that they ‘ve arrived,
Or will you demand such caviares as Beluga and make them
     take another vile long time in the assembling?