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--- L E N N Y   D E L L A R O C C A

Wearing gay costumes from Hebron, all the whores of Christianity slide
down her throat with green worms in piss. She is, as they say, a freak
of Easter. Pity. The iridescent soul of Amelia broadcasts huffs and
groans over the radio to American troops in Laos.  The Eiffel Tower
shutters. "Kafka is a swollen arm," she says. A blue penny falls from
Ringo's eye. "Fuck me," she says in German, "while Catherine of Siena
turns estrogen into Hercules." Lined up outside the church are
Communists and Zulus taking lithium. White people love sodomy.
Prepubescent French girls. She motions to Netanyahu. Drums. Squalor.
Lays down on the ottoman while mice dance beneath her dress. Fumes.
There is a shadow the size of Philadelphia in her voice. And off in the
distance: bellydancing, crucifixion.

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