Episode From A Fortnight In Hell
On the thirteenth day a tiny silver snail with a sword through its neck screams on a rock. Armies quiver and lunge like porcupines. Dinosaurs, or perhaps camels, mount a hill......
Strassenbahn
Gut-squeal. I hear it all night in my dream. Between rails and wire, it worries through the Ring-circuit like a rat in a maze. No wonder it squeals. Gas-worm. Eating its way out......
Written On The Road Of Cemeteries Leading To The Airport
at Vienna I see American poetry with red claws conquering the world. It makes a Vietnam in the Pushkin industry. It calls the sonnet Robert Bly. Somewhere under the fingers of......
The Auschwitz Rag
It's a gas, going to the gas, going to the gas, it's a gas, Man, going to the gas I walk on tip-toe To the Zyklon B. They're goin' to crucify Little me. Up ahead Stick men in......
Die Namenlosen
One with a bugle, slash of gold, over his shoulder. •••■■• The rest, grey gums. They gnash forward, swine's-flesh, into rancid_meat. Only, this was the first war. They oar in......
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