(spam poem by Edward Desautels) outdoor glasses open to lonely winter promise our Indians the reservations sold we affirm our pretty town behind the cannon preempt the encounter conduct our inquiries redeem thy foundry we cry on horseback our vapours seeth and tumble in the upper regions we have done ill will we have asked…
Loft Story
(spam poem by Edward Desautels) shall we get our guns? our phone rings at least once a day and MA Bell gusts through us a Goliath in David's face if we shot Goliath might we put a slug in David? before he could roll across the room and end all of this for us? we…
Rolled Steel Elegy
(spam poem by Edward Desautels) prisoners at any expense and nothing on earth to be done she was the cause of our belonging our town cried the bitterest stream leaned back in its chair and saw that I was looking looking at its cleanliness and order, still the placid face across the stream the tumbled…
Our Night of Long Knives
(spam poem by Edward Desautels) we looked with cold eyes on the little men standing in our gardens and gravely offfered these phantoms every consideration and kindness on the opposite side of our little town doctors made their discoveries and shut the dark neighborhoods that had taken leave of their senses we believed ourselves perfect…
New Orleans Lament
(spam poem by Edward Desautels) begging and praying more incredulous than ever we turned our backs on silent fancies dull and motionless as the charm shops while we handed over our money our pretty town entered into wedlock with our reproach and the tremendous sea itself why didn't the lookout tell us will you mind…
Ed Desautels' Maximum Fiction 