carson-grace

November 24, 2024

Yours is not (I regret to say) the story they tell / although you howl and gash yourself / scurrying out of the tombs

where you now live. / God forces some. / God’s prophet came

to send your unclean spirit / into pigs, who ran amok. / I saw you

at the bottom of the cliff of pity / diving in pig blood— / “cleansed” now.

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Thought:

“Through and through the inspired leaves,
Ye maggots, make your windings;
But, oh! resspect hsi lordship’s taste,
And spare his golden bindings.”

Robert Burns | “The Book-Worms”

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