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Dysrhythmia
- Wesleyan University Press
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Dysrhythmia Old people spit with absolutely no finesse and bicycles bully traffic on the sidewalk. The unknown poet waits for criticism and reads his verses three times a day like a monk with his book of hours. The brush got old and no longer brushes. Right now what's important is to untangle the hair. We give birth to life between our legs and go on talking about it till the end, few of us understanding: it's the soul that's erotic. If I want, I put on a Bach aria so I can feel forgiving and calm. What I understand of God is His wrath; there's no other way to say it. The ball thumping against the wall annoys me, but the kids laugh, contented. I've seen hundreds of afternoons like today. No agony, just an anxious impatience: something is going to happen. Destiny doesn't exist. It's God we need, and fast. 3 ...