the wall

brick hymn ,after schlock

,torture pit brims with filthy

air deep cloud cough your

tripping up yr steps there

ain't no softserve in the

mirror was shelves of books

crashing in their sleep off

walls .wrinkled dust be

neath your shirt and shoes

,c c aky c c oughing up a

screw and nnumbered shoot my

shit cacompaction ease and

slumber sing the ththick

ness hopping in the crawlspace

...ne sachant comment il ne s'y était trouvé...

- Samuel Beckett