Killing letters is easy.
Words are much harder. One
could hear the sonic pull.
Libraries are the worst to kill.
One night I tried and puked
up paper the whole time.
I got caught and detained.
They brought me in.
They cracked my head
open like a metaphor.
A watermelon on a picnic
table, it was filled
with tiny black seeds, with bugs.
I asked to have them fucked out.
They refused.
Instead they set fire to the card catalogue in my head.
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