Larkinesquernby Tom DischrnHaving so long been in the habitrnOf not being Me,rnI rather fancyrnThe prospect of returning as a rabbit—rnA baby rabbit sold at EasterrnFor the infant joyrnOf a baby boy.rnThen allowed to starve and festerrnIn a shoebox grave, to be rebornrnAgain, and soon.rnAs the crescent moon,rnAloof above a world of porn.rnFreed of the need to live and breathe.rnThe mere reflectionrnOf light’s perfectionrnAnd source of the silverv Lethe.rnOn the Occasion of Passing MyrnOld Address and Finding It HadrnBecome a Punk Art Galleryrnby Tom DischrnIs bad painting good painting?rnSo some maintain.rnIs bad poetry, then, good poetry?rnPerhaps.rnAnd what of bad people?rnThey can be good at times.rnAnd bad smells?rnYou get used to bad smells.rnCan anything be badrnWithout being, somehow, good?rnOui! cried the pig. Oui, oui, oui,rnAH the way home.rnAUGUST 1993/21rnrnrn