Monday, April 02, 2012


I was forced to leave my house
for the influx of experience. It was
a turn of events making the eyeliner
smear on the cover of the celebrity magazine.
In one domestic locale, a neighbor
plucks his eyebrows in sunlight
coming through his window. Oh my,
a helicopter sprays blue grease
at the cars below. I'm not at all
hemmed in by my desire or my refined flaws; I
advertise good living like a cop.
Just look at the gorgeous birds on my tour
of the mangrove swamp.
If I stand perfectly still, the highway
sounds like a metal ocean. Surfers
bounce off roofs and these brilliant
blue fish get stuck in the headlights.
By the way, do you know the
small part of my back? I'd like you
to itch the sunburn back there.


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