Aaron Anderson: Santa Cruz and the Clocks of Salvador Dalí
Santa Cruz and the Clocks of Salvador Dalí
©2004 Aaron Anderson
all my clocks are wrong
I leave at 9:45, arrive at 9:58, and step out into 9:46
this city sucks everything in spits it all out and eats it again
time does not bend here does not stop
the clocks fuck up, stop, melt
the minds of my friends have fucked up, melted, failed them us
this city is a few degrees warmer wax melts at room temperature
wax sculptures, my friends laid down their guns have quit trying
to understand the nightmare of economics have quit trying
the clocks do not melt
my friends, defenseless, cannot even find them
slowly cultivating addictions to apathy, to melting clocks, surrealism
“YOUR LUCKY NUMBERS”
©2004 Aaron Anderson
Torture centers: salad days muggers and drug dealers A vibrant young woman—her torso was found Agents business suits pregnant in her third trimester Finally, the grim discovery: a listless economy an early-to-bed teetotaling president Richmond has murders every week, and those figures are expected to rise Evelyn Hernandez was pregnant with a second child Agent Orange Pakistan, Zimbabwe, Iran, China, Malaysia, Japan, Britain, Vietnam, Ethiopia, Sudan and Germany an apocalyptic landscape of pitch-black hallways, sagging ceilings and empty chasms the U.S. military “shackled, belly-chained and escorted by two deputies,” the most innocent of victims. “Our greatest hope” would have been CRAWFORD, Texas— the recovery of a body DNA tests just after Labor Day, U.S. air strikes half-eaten food vague threats curious missions murder charges love notes from German women five Palestinians killed After weeks of claims to the contrary, No arrests have been made.