Mar
2
Sonnet
by Lynn Xu
Terror. The chocolate machine glistens
In the night. The universe hangs on this
Malheur. Mal de Mer. The sea-worm listens
To its Latin noise, mingling parti pris
With the bastion of deal, its missing knob,
Terra infidel, how the lunar month
Makes appetite with its special eye. Slob
Jelly on eyelids slagged with salt. The month
Cannot end like this. And wanting nothing
Of this in mind the mind-englutted touch
Torches its prime. Spoils of influence. Thing
Is. The world must end. Must fascinate such
And such torment to mortgage its dark chase.
Déjenos. Let us go. Buenas noches.
