At the brown curled edges, I reached for my brothers. Who seemed
golder for their trial, yet pitiful, bound in globes. At the tawny
lobes that flashed beneath the skirt of my mixed double I sighed
and flipped the shuttlecock free of the arena. And flapped away
on nylon wings to my den of smokes and mirrors:
a highrise. A cataracting machine and a wheel
of paper white as a Nereid’s thigh it turned over and over.
I flung my limbs in my trademark louche pose knee on the top
rung hip on the file.
My elbow splayed grazed a stack of hard plastic. Those gold chips
flecked my own eyes. No need
for a vehicle but the day was endless, as the sun revolved on
my back. I pulled like a bull with a good thing coming. I never
came back. I came back. Blew a rough note down to my cousin, still
nursing on the dump. On the low shelf: clogs, cabbage nodding in
a box by which I mean the god I evicted from an Irish song leaving
in the drinking and the perfect breasts and the billboard that
threatened to spill both onto the interstate. I drove and dwelt
awhile in the midriff of the land and then
I folded the interstate away with my titles.
I packed the porkchop into my three ring razor I packed the microfilm
into the six chambers
of a tomato tomato. Which sweet rind will ripen beyond ripeness
in the heatpackin’ district of the mind. In the closed apartment.
In the funnybone twang. In the crushed-queer sixpack. In the engorged
tsetse nose. In the fightin’ mad. In the ring of bitemarks.
In the hydra-coiled stove. In the alcolyte slang. In the mug. In
the makeupcase. In the hold of the westbound bus. In the duffle
bag in the hold of the east boundbus. In
the spoiling turkey folds. On the back of the turncoat,
his own sweaty target. In whose sleeping alkali. In whose clone. In the letdown of whose
getup. In the babe whose first woid is boid. In that voidy vowel.
In that full-of-noise. In that split-lip grilled screen of the
stereo speaker whose pulp, the black-hatted patriarch, revolves,
before picking the least pate to strike time on in the mechanism
over the sunblent square. Into the freezerblunt square. Into which
is given to explode
the mindbulb the stolen yellow Datsun in the furthest park-n-fly
lot of the mind the bleeding pigment of all fat flags the endgame
when the screen dissolves and the code falls out like a disowned
breast the permutated backbone rank the truncheon falls of the
fish police back for vengeance in their sways and means in their
swank green glade in their green green galleons of bone