of new brothers + fourth husbands
on pg 449 started this book as my bro
lay dying it’s about a man living under a
bridge in knoxville tennessee pure biblical
Cormac McCarthy:
Scorpion dust, frogpowder in sowsmilk. You’ll
shit through the eye of a needle at thirty paces.
Pieces of a dream unreeled down the back of his brain.
(Suttree 1979)
on friday in a bar cute bartender named riley
asked if he could be my 4th husband i’d made
an intro to husband #3 or is he #2?
cliches piling up as they are want to do after a few
don julio now a strange quiet as i contemplate the
book’s end what will become of me +riley +my sanity
it kept me alive through fields of destruction baptism of
new babybro born in a shiva-house daydream roundfaced
like the lostbro but immortal unhospiceable
our father standing by protectively fathers can do these sorts
of things in dreams they come unbidden to hold your hand
and say things like: you’re the greatest little filly of ’em all girl
__
Winter 2019 .. here’s to eviscerated saints..and my new baby bro..
