RECORDS

The man, a changeling, journeys across the radiant waste of the American west, there is a quake, a crack, he sprawls, he laughs, he sticks his prick into the jagged warp and spews his seed of trust and disgust thru the hard red vein of the desert, he does not emerge, he cannot rise, his cock is caught in the mouth of the wilderness, gestures of sound but no sound, there is to be silence before god.

January 1, 1979
PATTI SMITH

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