An Asterisk Between Two ActsDavid Laskowski
Nannies are grouchy with their corpulent asses. Opulent spells of eggs iced-over and a wine goiter like a saggy crepe-de-chine. To say I am an heir-istotle, acting for a dowager’s veil. That stage where its curtain is drawn with a black, a puse, & a drier magenta, is a chance for ex- ceptions to the rules (Hamlet licks Hamlet licks Hamlet licks Hamlet licks Ophelia licks her Laertes, a.k.a. an orgy of impossible actions made possible by theater’s rank impossibility). A such the peach in a sky or its own graphites Abstractly interpreted as a waiting of sorts. As in the party formations, they form like a jellied pie-tin until i.e. they collapse – fungible peoples wanting and wanting still more (I deserve and I need what’s mine is yours). That, they’ve said, is the struggle between our blacker necessities, be patient, we’ll be getting to that soon enough.
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