Wednesday, January 16, 2008

dcxix

waiting in line for an iPhone.
the refrigerator is on my shoulder.   a bird
the sign of a heartattack.   he’s got

purple hair,
he says.   cars honk and sneeze.   there’s
a cool breeze, a pain in my shoulder

or beneath it (the sound of a lumber mill or an elevator).
a new 60-story building full of condominiums—
it only takes a few days to get it up.

ok, let’s say it’s a heartattack, then.   and poodles
that bark past midnight, or so the story goes.
an upset stomach and a bowl of daisies.

migratory pornography.   selective dishevelment.
run the bacon for twenty-four minutes.   recover.

then he made me eat a lychee!   well, it was boring—
he only had 4 gigs left.   power back up the hill,
past the salon thru the Starbucks and under a jet:

sex and/or romance to calm the nerves;
a new habit involving right index finger
and lateral incisor (lower right).