one hot winter day was preceded by a hot winter night where i was afflicted with some sort of allergy access, allergy maybe to the abundant quantitites of alcohol i ingested that same night before i submerged myself into myself and had dreams of horses running wild, dreams of a story written by a dead novelist and dreams that made me swirl across the bed, hallucinations not worth mentioning of your sweet and generous bosom and things of the sort. so today, another hot winter day which was preceded by a hot winter night i will wait for you, your bosom and the novelist to appear in my dreams and erase you all with a sudden movement of my eyelids
edgard carlile (Newport, RI, 1970)
