When Your Hearing Aid is Off
When Your Hearing Aid is Off Those rare eyes contemplate a grotesque city drowned in graffiti, tombstone for exquisite corpses. Where I come from people talk about sex to encourage laughter. All trust their genitals to the mouths of others. All. Trees are paper crematory urns, and water carries death camps in its oxygen. I'm deceived in believing I can rewrite all this pain. Having a clear conscience is a symptom of poor memory crowded between us as if it were the sole opinion as to what the meaning of facing each other to discriminate is.