Let's workshop this poem about how the depths of human credulity, credulity even when it comes to the most pathetic failures of imagination, can séance forth intense suicidal ideation in the educated
Pity all these suckers who trust
their stunted imagination,
yes—but also all their ghosts
reduced to tipping brooms over,
scurrying like squirrels
in incest attics; all their aliens
reduced to trampling corn
as lamely as night hoaxers,
fisting the occult’s wettest groupies.
Pity all these suckers who trust
their stunted imagination,
yes—but also all their ghosts
reduced to tipping brooms over,
scurrying like squirrels
in incest attics; all their aliens
reduced to trampling corn
as lamely as night hoaxers,
fisting the occult’s wettest groupies.