From 96ab7a3ce522f38a768e67c73021bf1071832a37 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2015 12:04:05 -0700 Subject: Add Paul; move source files to src/ --- spittle.html | 35 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 35 insertions(+) create mode 100644 spittle.html (limited to 'spittle.html') diff --git a/spittle.html b/spittle.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb92b5c --- /dev/null +++ b/spittle.html @@ -0,0 +1,35 @@ + + + + + + + + + + Spittle | Autocento of the breakfast table + + + + + + + + +
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Spittle

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My body is attached to your body by a thin spittle of thought.
When you turn away from me, my thought is broken
and forms anew with something else. Ideas are drool.
Beauty has been slobbered over far too long. God
is a tidal wave of bodily fluid. Even the flea has some
vestigial wetness. We live in a world fleshy and dark,
and moist as a nostril. Is conciousness only a watery-eyed
romantic, crying softly into his shirt-sleeve? Is not reason
a square-jawed businessman with a briefcase full of memory?
I want to kiss the world to make it mine. I want to become
a Judas to reality, betray it with the wetness of emotion.

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