Wednesday, March 16, 2011

SPOILING THE GLAMOR OF GRUBBS

On the terrace I took the olive from her hand and drank it down
with a sip of Simone's auburn hair -

The dark sweetens the flashlight pulpy. Luminary of the
rich couple at the next table's Cocker Spaniel's wingnut unconscious –
their relationship's most famous and exemplary braincell
bowing to the poetic acne of the bellhop's typewriter

That's why you grope around in the dark, babe. That's why
the luggage racks are being so adorable. She and I vanish behind
the eyelid of the hotel, and on the electric stove burner, Kabbalah
is smoking hot

We both concede that we can just feel the ocean itching to breathe

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