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224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1970
Don’t believe any of those stories you had to read in college about Faust, the big scientist who wanted to know all the shit in the world, so he turned on with the devil.
There was a small unshaven man in Jerusalem called Nasser who worked at a café inside the Damascus Gate. He carried cherry-red coals to your hookah when you smoked. His clothes were a simple black smock tied with a piece of rope around the middle, a black, gold-embroidered skullcap and worn slippers. “War is ugly, but peace is lovely,” he shouted when he approached to take your order.
Sometimes just one more bite and
I feel on the edge of a precipice.
Too many holidays, too many
specimens, too much stuffing.
I’ve got my credentials to hang me up.