David Foster Wallace

The cornfields
of Illinois are pretty
Where David Foster Wallace
grew up

His childhood
was made up of
bonfire anecdotes
Shark teeth

Infinite jest
He was the pale king
Sitting on an earth-throne
The so-called psychotic

Bewitched by libraries
by the halls of Amherst
The Midwest where of-all-things
Genocide took place

Murder and speeches
His dream songs
They came from space
He gripped his pen

Left behind
An alphabet
of vowels and consonants
Supernova writing

There were monsters
hiding in the closet
Monsters under the bed
The room is smaller

Than he remembers
When he returns home
From Amherst water
and lobsters pouring out

of him as he evaporates
America offers shelter for some
Worms, holes, the dark, maniacs
Hooks already programming him.

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