Philip Jenks's Blog: This Sunday @ Myopic Books/Simone Muench, Philip Jenks, & Patrick Culliton, page 10

Installation, part II, the lice dissection room and everyday people clause

o m g foun d the acid burns on the bodies again you see they were laid out cool room in the cool room oh get me a drink iof w aa a ter I was thinking they were like the sheets you put over the body the burns were sheets you were put over you were police you were surveilled you were terrorized heya partay you got slaps of dead bodies raving on each other in Miamasmatic mess of Heideggerian sublime. but this one's gone cold you can see it's no Theweleit no don't let me into the divisions of the th

Installation1

holy once, holy twice
Sold to the man with
the lint in his pocket
holy once, holy twice
Sold to the man
who tried not to knock it.
Wholly one
holy twice
sold to the bending
abject string object!

slats of then.
lawd listing and listing
with jesus stamps
and Franco lockets.
this arm isn't supposed
to be like that arm.
You thought of the casting
before the cast
right in front of them,
as they watched you
make them up.

He may love love
but still can't
believe how much hair
is in this place.
It's not one person's.
Sweepin

are you full of it?

regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret
regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret
regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regre

Machine Gun Man, West Virginia, sketchest toward the ekphrastick

from the seventh (0) o our heads o will rock o cute cut courtesy class classy classroom claims. form of claimant on the seventh form from the sixth head for what was dead for who was spent for who went dead inside for who walked cuts and all this lite litany bebom bemoan no window for you are such stung such hung form not trying sedition. THe edge of his thick arm bulched in mischief (no relief of soul in this song, white on white paint tight wound protestant tumor, that you-weren't-born-rightne