Thursday, September 09, 2010

You Get the Picture

Aching for the riff but really
all I want is a pair of arms
all funked and breathable.
Nothing is confusing really beacause
my needs are simple and refined
as mayaonaise on corn beside a truck
in Red Hook on a sunny Sunday, or something.
I can barely see you through the night.
A silver bike is my agent of velocity.
Zipping through the city is all I can do for you.
Hey! I am so well-rounded
that you can't even make your way to me
all gray and bulbous. You may now enter
the museum of my face. You are going fast.


Anonymous Anonymous said...


12:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

your poems make me very happy.

1:32 PM  

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