Poems: Messages in bottles
Elevens: Forgotten things recollected in elevens—11, 22, 33...
Sacred Trespasses: Contributions to the literary pages at Sacred Trespasses

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Now you shall be a monster, a shapeless mass,
speck and darkless, indivisible, silent
and lone.

                Sudden at a membrane of motion
you shall be, be — and a makerless monster
without breath or preposition, ignorance
fit to weep over, sifted and the sieve,

                                                            and,
and — senseless hypersense, you shall maul through time
and novate matter, you shall be the wounding
wound for which Being bulges to light! Now, now —

and you shall be milk and milked, the blank brain and
the blankness, and save you none is saved from you,
even the face, the face moving now, above

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