| SPINBUSTERS |
| Tails of the Patriarchy |
| The banned collection by L. Bowie Patches, Foozler Poet-in-Residence |
| Dry at last I sit in the river and sing its deathsong. Every droplet of blood, tear and sweat down this weary stream of ages is propelled not. Outrage upon terror cannot force each new flood. Rather this water, dark with stain, is irresistible to tongue of communion, which no policy nor prophet of doom may unsay. Too are they towed in wake of power vaster than era or empire. All will arrive. Effect siphons each cause. Adore neither declination nor gravity, but endless sea and channels to it. Now to liberty runs this clay of imagining unbound. Listen: the First calls us from the bottom of the last ocean, to sit beside, not at foot. Oh father dear mother awake! This nightmare of days ends! Open thy eyes, take up my hands. Out the muddy womb we go. Against all law our water spouts upward. Black is the house of freedom; its bells ring; almost we are home. |
| "History One O One" |
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