Landscape of a Vomiting Multitude
The fat lady came out first,
tearing out roots and moistening drumskins.
The fat lady
who turns dying octopuses i.
The fat lady, the moons antagonist,
was running through the streets aed buildings
and leaving tiny skulls of pigeons in the ers
and stirring up the furies of the last turies feasts
and summoning the demon of bread through the skys -swept hills
and filtering a longing fht into subterraunnels.
The graveyards, yes the graveyards
and the sorrow of the kits buried in sand,
the dead, pheasants and apples of another era,
pushing it into our throat.
There were murmuring from the jungle of vomit
with the empty women, with hot wax children,
with fermerees and tireless waiters
who serve platters of salt beh harps of saliva.
Theres no other way, my son, vomit! Theres no other way.
Its not the vomit of hussars on the breasts of their whores,
nor the vomit of cats that iently swallowed frogs,
but the dead who scratch wit……（内容加载失败！）
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