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| 1 | --- | ||
| 2 | title: 'Spittle' | ||
| 3 | project: 'Elegies for Alternate Selves' | ||
| 4 | ... | ||
| 5 | |||
| 6 | My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought. \ | ||
| 7 | When you turn away from me, my thought is broken \ | ||
| 8 | and forms anew with something else. Ideas are drool. \ | ||
| 9 | Beauty has been slobbered over far too long. God \ | ||
| 10 | is a tidal wave of bodily fluid. Even the flea has some \ | ||
| 11 | vestigial wetness. We live in a world fleshy and dark, \ | ||
| 12 | and moist as a nostril. Is conciousness only a watery-eyed \ | ||
| 13 | romantic, crying softly into his shirt-sleeve? Is not reason \ | ||
| 14 | a square-jawed businessman with a briefcase full of memory? \ | ||
| 15 | I want to kiss the world to make it mine. I want to become \ | ||
| 16 | a Judas to reality, betray it with the wetness of emotion. | ||