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Survival of the Fittest


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Joshua Copeland

This book The 120 Days of Sodom and
a foreign movie by some dude Walerian Borowczyk (?) under my
older brother’s bed while looking for my
batting gloves I eat my green Jell-O
and sit outside on the wooden porch swing to read

the squeaking of the porch swing, kind of like
the squeaking of the kids in the book, heh... The desert
is asleep, my legs dangle, the sky is
ironed out and unfolded all blue,
“That I deny,” said the Bishop with emphasis, “and even for such pleasures as you allude to the boy is worth more than the girl. Consider the problem...”
Then...Storm Clouds lean from the Salt Lake Mountains
Crumbs to Him, HIS crumbs, my Granddad has said, will always say, of us
...to spread a little hot sealing wax on dear Sophie’s thighs, the scoundrel...
Dust devils sprout and spin like a desert ballet
Zelmire, whose death is not far off. Deep into her...
The hot air and dust slap the book hard
and breathe a flapping life into the pages
I must press them down to read
The tales of pregnant women being chastised have proven woeful to Constance’s ears as they have delighted Curval’s; she sees only too well... As I rub sand out my eyes
And the wind picks up more, the wind picks up
MORE It furiously assaults
the swing and me, I’m on a roller coaster, A whitely bearded God
cheeks puffed, lungs violently convulsed
One Way signs stream from his mouth (Weatherly pneumatics)
...she yields four teeth...prick the white of her eyes...
Flies land on ME—on my skin, not my clothes
Mom’s angry that I’m not coming inside
...the top of the skull remains dangling. He was still breathing when he fell...
Soon the clouds cough and spit rain drops onto the jittery pages
...‘Twas only then his soul fled his body; at the age of fifteen years and eight months thus perished one of the most heavenly creatures ever formed by Nature’s skillful hand. His Eulogy. Etc.
Splinter in right thumb needles me
Drowning in unique dermal whorls



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