I know your kind: your hollow fealty to words. You claim you'd die for literature, yet you fear to be slain in the arena. Well Combatwords ain't your uncle and it ain't Sam neither... but it wants you. It wants you to fall on your face and break your dainty nose. It wants you to scream for blood between the lines and it wants a final, wordless yet implied 'fuck you' as you lie defeated in the sand.
RToady (Seann McCollum) http://carrioncall.blogspot.com March 12, 2011 2:20 AM :
"A modern Salome, or Magdalene,
all she had to do was grin;
gripped between her perfect teeth, the blade
she emancipated bananas with,
flinging them up to the grubby gamins
begging at the edge of the pier."
I was late to the game March 12, 2011 9:58 PM :
"Admit it, you've suffered reversals.
Desire, so the Buddhists declaim,
Is the root of one's woe as if life
Were a trifle. It's huge. It's the only
Certainty, other than death."
Go forth and fight:
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