My Katje

[rich]

Crooks lay in a weighted state waiting for the dead assassin while the rust
pure powder puffs, a shimmering opaque red. Papers spread, no-one driving,
we hurled direct ahead, the windows dark-green tinted, the hearse a taxi
instead. Snow storms forecast imminently in areas Dogger, Viking, Moray,
Forth, and Orkney. Keeping cover in denuded scrub, the school destroyed
raised the club, panic spreading with threat of fire. Crowding beneath a
layer of foam, refugees intertwined, alone. Within the institution walls,
in pastel blue, clinical white, slashed red lipsticked walls, mercy nurse
tonight. Seems like dark grey stockings in the raking torchlight with 4 AM
stubble, a midnight transvestite.

On Fri, May 28, 2021 at 8:59 PM Cagliostro_the_Impossible via Pynchon-l <
pynchon-l at waste.org> wrote:

> There are things...soft footsteps in the shadow...that must keep us from
> the ones we love...
> translucent golden hair, like moonlight on undulating black oceans
> ...somewhere a cold wind beckons
> The alchemy of a glance in a crowded room bound to search forever empty
> rooms in empty buildings lost in empty streets, a lifetime condemned to a
> desperate pursuit which has no beginning and will not end...
> Dust and ashes, once a flame...a mad inferno that consumes
> everything...only just dust and ashes
> My beautiful girl...My Helen...and even in verdant green pastures of a
> once resplendent Arcadia walks the most fell of all shades...
> There is a merciless cruelty to it.. and an endless repetition... the
> abduction of Persephone...the cruel murder of Zagreus (Dionysus)...
> Sparagmos... the charnel house where only death can live...
> I promise one more kiss, and say goodbye...only the hope of the eternal
> damned, a dead hope of those who have turned their backs on the sun...the
> dead hope of finding light...that selfsame light...in eternal darkness...
>
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