Thai-style Bat Head Soup.

the whole building now
clear and transparent
odorless and hovering

and the ladies and men inside
armless, and legless except
for the tendril clouds
which fork from splatters of
crystal plugs

i say to you

crystal balloon face tragedy

and you say

box of hollow horror

i say

simply light follows itself
the rush, the inrush of violent
high-voltage puppet heads
whose every litany of inner~

you interrupt me
with a tuning fork throwing knife
stuck into my

the whole building now
clear and transparent
odorless and hovering

and the ladies and men inside
armless, and legless except
for the tendril clouds
which fork from splatters of
crystal plugs

i say to you

thinking completes the thinking

the hollow empty building
that hovers

is like a meandering cube
that split
and continued to meander

a refrain
repeating nothing


nothing
nothing
nothing

gnostic ending
beginning

Modernism,

pretty like an aria in the stones
the secret house

was a glass snake
and could not be seen by the speakers
at all

in the hole where the spasm had lain

The last Roman
regretted
the dumb weirdo Christians
he had caused to proliferate

by not being evil enough
and thus allowing a greater evil

The last Christian
regretted
not being

Bat Masterson.

The transparent building
started to clog and sink
with chocolate eggs.