resounds in the aural periphery, emanates from tongues slobbering
and slipping sounds and stories out without control. As if (suddenly)
and slowly there were a construction crew laying down tongues
like bricks and saliva like mortar. One after the other after
the other until, pretty soon, the great pink wall, finally erect, finally
dividing, finally echoes the tower of Babel, finally is heard
by the outer rings of Saturn, as a chorus to drown the bored
silence of the universe so easily overwhelming.
No comments:
Post a Comment