“The sun is out. Uncertainty glitters in the sunshine. Yes, uncertainty wins in the end and all along the way.”
“I hold my imagination tightly in, I want as little sight as possible of the tract that runs from mouthparts to outlet, that never-ending cascade in sickening peristalsis, of stomach contents, gastric juice, chyme, foul unmentionable gunk, bits and bobs of exhausted elements of food on its way to the ultimate foulness of shit, stamped with the personality stink of the corpse.”
What is the poem saying in the white spaces? What do lives say in the gaps between events and people? What happened to us or two poetry that we ordinary people can no longer be confident that we know what the poet is saying and why? Grandpa said to put no trust in verse. Why?