Wednesday, November 28, 2007

The Tubercular

If you were to fornicate with the afterglow

of your own wound

Keats on the Spanish steps

made the dogs howl with the smell

which is where great art Zombifies,

on the steps,

hacking up great spurts of lung

fair reader

this is one half step away from pure


What is we had Keats’ brain in a jar

marked marmalade?

What is reanimating? watching cartoons

again and again

until the afterlife

I guess.

II. Infections Performed Before Witness

Because the origins of reanimation are unknown

doctors sacrifice volunteers on a platform

wearing gowns of purple with gold threads

before great columns of pyrotechnics on TV.

Today we have a Data Entry Technician from

Topeka interested in astrology.

She maintains

extraterrestrial given her faiths, Virgo in twining

the self orchestrated to the other new-by becoming

the gnawing distended self of Zombie, oof.

The moon above says “grow”. The Data entry

left behind weeps openly, floods of code, coded

streams of uneaten fast food lunches.


looking back, the priest with serpent knife

says death is the possibility of sex, the roof

gasps. The porous transition of shape.

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