Under a Tabloid Moon
I
A clear afternoon. Forgive me
like the brass-loud horns
against the blinding snow of a hillside.
Cosmo Monkhouse has just begun to deliver
a eulogy over his very own corpse.
And smartly he just said it: Forgive me.
a eulogy over his very own corpse.
And smartly he just said it: Forgive me.
Drifts of nitrogen
crossing his hallucination of an original savannah
bordered by a yellow swamp.
crossing his hallucination of an original savannah
bordered by a yellow swamp.
