Having thus excluded conversation and desisted from study, he had neither business nor amusement. His ideas, therefore, being neither renovated by discourse nor increased by reading, wore gradually away, till at last his anger congealed into madness.
Monday, May 10, 2010
For Thy Meat (after Marlowe)
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Live, come on me, and as for love,
We’ve only clinic tests to prove
Our innocence. Then, young and free,
We’ll romp through concrete Arcady.
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What hearts have felt, and tongues have caught,
And vice-versa, imports not.
Past lusts burnt sweetly, will incense
Paved gardens of inconsequence.
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Come, cling with me, and roll, and spoon,
Through gentrifying ethnic ruin.
Whites pearlier than moon shall rise
To dazzle hateful foreign eyes.
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We’ll trouble places, in the dark
No ruraler than public park.
For pollened air, and well-scaped land
Are all the nature we can stand.
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Our nymphs,with wigs and busts ersatz,
Will susurrate their surly thoughts
That bearded shepherd swains, asleep,
Are amply wooly without sheep.
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Come build with me. We’ll nest together.
Gingham, plaid, tattoos, and leather
To outift us urbanely, and
Apparel us, American.
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Come, lay with me, and we shall prove,
That Whitman’s praised adhesive love
Is not so binding in its power
When one takes care to quickly shower.
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