[mp3@64kbps - 28.9MB]
Read by: pheo
14b: to revert to mr. bloom … - 00:55:05
[mp3@64kbps - 26.4MB]
Read by: pheo
Creating System 1+1>2
by Jeffrey PaggiEndymion:
When you sing I weep backwards.
My fingers clutch at the cracks
and folds in my palms to
catapult attention to the
front room. Your
skill and science assail me.
I am not a still life.
I might be hard-boiled; throw me
in the pot. You are an ice glazed
bough, and
leaf the
stage.
Endymion:
When you dance I turn colder.
Just not in a spiral. For
June and her rib-cage were here.
Branches cracked
when the floor rose.
Endymion, you are away;
therefore, I peer in
your slumber.
What is that smell?
Moneta, dress down
and come over. The heart
heaves for silence. In that gasp
you appear, you apparition.
A minor muse in the garden.
a key for the winter, and then
turn for a lover.
You sent her an hour?
Endymion,
When you laugh I play fiddle.
For ten seconds longer,
he sat in the hammock.
A lazy revival. The wind entered
later. He fought for the roses.
To smell and remember.
To stain books with borboun.
They rose for their
stranger. A rose and a dagger.
She left with another.
Endymion,
Come here.
I would have you stand once,
that sober could linger. A rose
for the filing.
You're hardly my Lover.
