Deep South v.3. n.2. (Winter 1997)
the bricks we build our
lives on. Urinates on all
the more spiritual
institutions.
Thought I'd make friends
with Time. Chuck him a bone
and then fool around for awhile.
Be a bit of a destructive
bastard. Carve lines in
people's faces.
Copyright (c) 1997 by Dion Chamberlain, all
rights reserved.
Time. The licker of
fenceposts. That which
scratches and snuffles
around
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