Your Haloween Costume Should Be |
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Oct. 31st, 2005
Your Haloween Costume Should Be |
![]() |
Now is the dreadful midnight you
have to do what you want to do
not by your will which is afraid
but by my hand upon you laid.
My hand witheld almost too long
moves by lust, its grip is strong
and callous, it has turned to fire
the arpegios of a lyre
and we love carelessly
who gravely love Saint Harmony.
Resist not, nor can you resist, the cries
that in your bowels rise
which I to song shall modify
and neither of us will ever die.
--Paul Goodman (Collected Poems, p. 271)
have to do what you want to do
not by your will which is afraid
but by my hand upon you laid.
My hand witheld almost too long
moves by lust, its grip is strong
and callous, it has turned to fire
the arpegios of a lyre
and we love carelessly
who gravely love Saint Harmony.
Resist not, nor can you resist, the cries
that in your bowels rise
which I to song shall modify
and neither of us will ever die.
--Paul Goodman (Collected Poems, p. 271)
Now is the dreadful midnight you
have to do what you want to do
not by your will which is afraid
but by my hand upon you laid.
My hand witheld almost too long
moves by lust, its grip is strong
and callous, it has turned to fire
the arpegios of a lyre
and we love carelessly
who gravely love Saint Harmony.
Resist not, nor can you resist, the cries
that in your bowels rise
which I to song shall modify
and neither of us will ever die.
--Paul Goodman (Collected Poems, p. 271)
have to do what you want to do
not by your will which is afraid
but by my hand upon you laid.
My hand witheld almost too long
moves by lust, its grip is strong
and callous, it has turned to fire
the arpegios of a lyre
and we love carelessly
who gravely love Saint Harmony.
Resist not, nor can you resist, the cries
that in your bowels rise
which I to song shall modify
and neither of us will ever die.
--Paul Goodman (Collected Poems, p. 271)