Poem for Everybody

Theodore Adorno said that writing poetry after the E st was barbaric. The ust rages on, and I gree. I am a barbarian. 1is world is a barbarian. », beats its barbarian chest. bleeds innocent blood. I run mieten through it, tracing shapes lust, pulverized abbestos home-stuff and pixelated child- rendered bone-stuff and history as repetigious layers of se nts settled in symbols of s, settled in various co of ages splayed across bo s and blood-oceans of time like a book with a broken spine whose owner died far from his home or whose owner died in her home but nobody reads anymore.