Tuesday, May 8, 2012


I choose the flawed apple,
Literally. Art Pepper explains
California. Cigarette smoke, drifting
Through the bathroom window, sanctified
By its illegality, unlocks
Belmont, the sun’s throne.

Tuesday permits the dissipation
Of love. Let the vibration—Adderall,
Pilsner Urquel—reinforce the memory,
Now sacredly vague, of fixing

Brad’s computer under his
Desk. And the vast affection
Of Friendship. Later,

Sam, not yet two, runs
Naked through the living room.
Our eyes—Scotch-laden—
Widen. The world, too.

No comments:

Post a Comment