Tuesday, October 14, 2008


Trying to reconcile Harry Potter’s hairy chest

Nice day.   Felt peachy
all along.   Painted the sky blue.

“Oh, Sun,
which face shall I wear tomorrow?”

A siren in the distance puts in
a request: “Supreme Fiction,

please.”   But I’ve more a mind
for a teddy bear & a pink feather boa.

I’m gay at the gym (he was
leaving, I was coming)

looking forward to a very nice run
with a servile grin.   And then.

He walks into the bedroom
with a mohawk

just as I slobber gracelessly
toward Happyland.   This gets me

incredibly romantic and
a little insomnia.   Thus,

I pick up the television set,
or try to.   I broke my back!

Lying here in recovery.
I love the papadams and

the fish pakoras.   Lesson:
don’t you listen to no siren.