Wednesday, June 23, 2010


I love the smell of acid rain
gas stations lit up
by useless signs, fish-scent
in the oil of ceaseless electronic air:
our two mind-capsules heavy
under the lash of eyes
from the belly of a tree,

slums answered with barks
of celebration, the poet-warrior
slumping to his last mirror.

I love the docks untidy with guts,
hammering lemon & tomato odors
in the hot air of forever,
stunning its sights into scarcity,
behind the pink eye's beyond:

one nickel parked
on a cooling driveway, I remember
a truck rattled in the empty road
until you closed the window.

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