Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
Datassette + WARD-IZ + DEADLIFE + Still Corners.
Today it is not the classroom nor the classics which are the repositories of models of eloquence, but the ad agencies.
Sidewalks and Skeletons + Glacci + Sgrow + Alek Fin.
In the end, oh I know,
never, in my haggard passion,
have I ever been such a cadaver as now
as I take again in hand my tables of the present—
if reality’s real, but after it’s been
destroyed in the eternal and the moment by
the obsessive idea of a shining nothingness.
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