A palette with a bunch of
humps. A beanie of silk
atop each of the humps.
Atop the palette – a make-
shift mattress – there are
two men lying. Soon they
are writhing through the
humps with silk beanies,
all one hundred of them
(100 humps, 100 beanies),
their caps sewn together in
the manner of a 100-bos
omed bra worn as a slinky
dress that’s showing lots
of skin. This thoughts are
a soft of sex with styro
foam that drives you back
into my memory, the
one I built a wall around
just in case this might
eventually be attempted.
I keep at these things
as everyone else keeps
finding new ways for
me to disappear.
into my memory, the
one I built a wall around
just in case this might
eventually be attempted.
I keep at these things
as everyone else keeps
finding new ways for
me to disappear.
