Generations till the end
gorge
debauch
hang breathlessly
as embedded flesh
learning
a way through
the slings and arrows
Vishnu destroys
and creates
on the way to the pub.
He is Randall Rogers, visionary poet of
the prairie. A cowboy, yea, a beatnik; a Beatnik Cowboy. He is an old
young, sorry. Here he exhibits new work. More flashes in the pan. I
hope the world, nay, you editor, approveth of seeth/something here.
(Currently reading "Pilgrim's Progress") Adios! I kind of reworked
these to work in booze but they are total virgins (never put out).
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