André Breton’s Apartment
the madder runs
like blood
lifeblood of
the livebud
that kindles next to earth
the hair on the church is water
the lovebirds curve their crutches down
so long
to the sacred
palaces
so long to the fingerbone that lingers on
if i’m alive
it’s no thanks to you
if i’m comatose
let’s make the most of it
tomato ghost
rude twilight
ruby tear
discipline disappears
between the shapeless necklace
and the cloudy robe of shrapnel
in the absence
of incense
no balm can grease
the throbbing temples
of the rotting world
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