LoOok
my boOrn casTer l’ame my ouch
log ——— or bent the cOmb ra)labpst
book( was/////tum//bling an the
assssshes fleww : : : : : : ah
air was grey insects * * * fa\\ing f
rom thye sky my stone saiiiled aw
aaay na ym gol saw gniliob gnillliob
)runn a head an think k k k k k
Getting Up
rept dingle ,low the throUUUne
where I stubBle at the caved-in //\\
gates a bubble brises from my
bmouth o gassy ππππ gaazzing at
the high sh∆arp mist I should sleee
p beneath the carr I should mouldd
my skkull I should filll my pannts
with stones ººººoo and stutter in my
suiit Π the claw stackers clacking th
ere and I riisse and grisstle for
the staairs ):(