Sunday, November 4, 2007

100 words on Silver Jews' David Berman's Lyrical Prowess

I do not romanticize suicide attempts, but the abyss is close enough in chalk line around my body, like the border of a lake and a robot walks into a bar, sits down and orders a beer. The bartender says ‘hey, we don’t serve robots’ and the robot says, ‘oh but someday you will and even bellowing I LOVE YOU TO THE MAX after asking ever smoke the gel off a fentanyl patch, to make me concur that life might be too much to bear for someone who sees the rotting marrow in every bone, and yet the fucker lived.

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