A cold reflection on a mirror pavement wet with rain,
I wink my violet eye,
My collar high against the wind.
A dried out roll-up on an empty stomach;
Any comfort, as I roam the streets.
A willing conscript to sign in rhesus positive
For some fleeting belletrism,
I chase the success envy believes me to be,
Like a marionette without strings,
Drowning in this lazy river
Of tepid ink.
A heartbeat flicker like a wasp in a jar:
An alternatina teenager
In tyrannic nothing-dresses.
I court a frankenstitched friendship,
kiss her sweet-sweat neck
She somehow avoids arrest.
The laughter of sidemen from behind their instruments
As i consult the haruspex;
I suggest the motions of a wanderer;
Any disproportion of whisky could kill me,
Waiting in half-assumed stances.
Some miracle of adhesion:
I watch the shirt buttons strain across her bust.
I prefigure my hands in frustration
My guts in a twist
As trying to turn a needle inside-out.
Pin-stripes on all sides as two colts climb
Through ten paces;
I flash a bruised smile
Flip a table smashing glasses left and right.
I raise my .38, plug one through his leg,
He falls to the floor,
another in his chest,
So he knows he’s finished.