all orange, looking fabulous against
the blue. Trying more for the red
page, thirsty for enlightenment, I
listen to the siren, guess which
street, feel the intensity or
the exaggeration as it cuts
intersections, piercing yet
more holes through the fog.
which is like making a sentence
The sun makes me dizzy so I
drink lots of water, lie in the
middle of Market and dream
about tanks. War is making
me horny, so I get up before
a taxi runs me over. He
offers me a ride free
of charge, slicing
the soup of night
in two.
