She lays on a nicotine bed with insomnia tossing tornados in her mind; thinking of wagon-fulls of Anglo-Saxons drunk on terror. thinking of pig-sties, Russian roulette, and a bearded hermit wheezing like a jiminy pod. think of Zen-bombs and paper zoots around midnight, bullet-riddled pimps shatter proof police blue-gilled on the margarine railroad, thinking of love at first sight, wanting caskets instead of roadblocks.
Racing to the center of the dictionary, everything we talked about, that despicable tightrope soothed by erasers, however infatuated, grows in the sesame mud. moon-washed hulls of animals, a hideous midgets yowls, peppering the darkness with voodoo hot behind the apartment under robotic lanterns in owl safe suits, a see-um crimson accent. the minutes hold a ludicrous vase and a malady loaf surprised by the loyal farewell. The clink of cars veil, bell of death, lovers
Across the street an off-white man waits by a jaded lemon tree whittling a weasel-shaped smile, fondling inconspicuously a carrousel burning in the eye of an oncoming train floating like a puppet made of thawing crescent-ed leaves. morphine drips, certainties peacekamker, crumbling love-birds grieve their imbred display, summer’s absence brawn of dry magnolias plaster holes where paintings used to be. the cold, cold xylophone night, wooden bells clutch at the darkness, a telephone rings but no one answers.
