today the postman brought me a copy of adam fieled's opera bufa. a proper review is in the works for galatea resurrects. for now, all i will say is that this book deserves lots of readers. & that it contains a recurring ton of bricks (which for me is mainly a musical reference, to a great early song so titled by metal church). instead of explaining why i'll post one of the poems


#44

There I was in bed in a toy store. I had a fever.
I was also a girl in the corner who wanted to
get in bed with me. There was a blonde
apparition, a loudmouth, pacing a bit like
Patton. I felt strained from being me and also
being someone else. In retrospect, it seems
strange that no toys were visible. It is also
curious that, in the dream, I happened to be a
famous musician. No determinate ending
presented itself. Patton might've become a
stuffed animal, I can't remember. Something
was said that meant war: don't toy with me.

now, go get it