like smoke-maddened rats
like a man
like thunder
like me
like liquor
journey to the end of the night 5
like me
like the pepper in a good sauce
journey to the end of the night 6
we, the befogged wounded
swallowing nails
as a rat
beautiful glasses
after a long dive
a can of meat?
opprobrium
ten pounds of turds on the Fourteenth of July
You are young!
battle sausage
Long live Diderot!
episcopal money boxes
these sublime truths
A ham
A hysterical bitch
the red plush sofas
grope for our happiness
killing or adoring,
or both together
mercantile aims
uturns
Watteau
her rapacious instincts
the rich live together
all the rest is shit & misery
famous pastry
repugnant cumulative disharmony
portrait of ourselves
there is to it
my big head
stank of a whole past
all women
an artist in that line
an art of ugliness
free love
animal terror
waiting for my angel
subterfuge
little preferences
sonatas and adagios
the Argentine colony
took me for a pimp
listen chen lives in Vancouver and mucks around with words. Louis-Ferdinand Céline died in 1961 and was probably a coward.
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