Poems from damien.wren.
i spend all
day holed up
making
calculations. after
doing it for so
long, you
begin to notice
that you can
plug in all the right...
cross, over
eyes; dot, under
crosses
(perhaps,
gracefully; tucked
limbs- paling
bleed, quietly
away; drip,...
"
."
" ,
, ."
" ."
" ,
, ."
"...
(like a fuel
pump) spill the
head spill the
heart spill
the
[soul] contents
of vomit: ...
japan, my dear, you were so beautiful
even after the craving trapped me
on an island buried in radiation and gloom by
a hiroshima cloud
...