From bec7c936d59e331500c8350b92e33f2b5c5eb0e0 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Tue, 10 Mar 2015 23:17:06 -0700 Subject: Move dedication to before epigraph --- spittle.html | 29 ++++++++++++++--------------- 1 file changed, 14 insertions(+), 15 deletions(-) (limited to 'spittle.html') diff --git a/spittle.html b/spittle.html index 2978141..08c8588 100644 --- a/spittle.html +++ b/spittle.html @@ -1,5 +1,6 @@ - + + @@ -23,21 +24,19 @@ + +
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Spittle

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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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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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