MORE FUCKING POETRY

A Letter to The Author Dennis Cooper

dennis - sometimes, late at night like this, i think everything is a lie, everything i'm being told by everyone. it's all fake. we're living in a state of mass induced insanity. it's really the mole people in charge or some shit like that. wtf right?

i wish
i was a grain of dried dog shit
stuck in the treads of your boot
so that
i could witness history
deaf dumb and quadropleeeeeaaagic
a useless voiceless mote
so that i could feel genius
without understanding
outside
underneath
dull and ugly
not there
but at least
I'd be there


ishmishnish
ishmishnish
ishmichnich
mich
nich

hahahahaha

stupid

rabbits heave and expand in the glowing glare of noontime suns
grass so green so green so green it hurts
god doesnt care
he doesnt care anymore
and my fathers love is killing me
rotting my flesh in its heat
and the glistening gray rabbits dance and bray in the burning white heat of a thousand noontime suns

dead

dead

dead
that one's okay
dead
dead
wait...
dead
lunch

Dennis, I wish I was your fingernail. No not that one. Yeah that one.

Thanks.