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THE
MORAL MAZE
He
smears the wall with shit and phlegm and blood,
sprays
it with piss and rubs it with his hand,
shouting
obscenities and high on smack:
a
Pollock which takes bollocks to expand.
This
man, your prisoner, banged up for life,
a
crazy killer, lets his mural dry,—
and
does it have a meaning? Does it fuck!
Pretend
his act makes sense and you would lie.
...
(For full text see
the Kindle ebook The
Nature of Things (Collected Poems) by Alan Marshfield)
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