February 17, 2014

beyond the muscle

what small desires
wind up in a volley
in the city I took tests
to end the matter,
or in simpler terms -- there isn't !
there was my discreetness
there was Mr Cohen in a room with me
there was crumpled newspaper and a vase
he told me, 'you are to draw this', this still life
an elaborate and intuitive scrawl
and shading and cross-hatching
drew -- ha!
me from Feltonville
where lawns only held the illusion
of an stretched plain
where I launched waves
of suction cup arrows
at the approaching

where I am no good, I write
'I don't operate often,
when I do, companions take note'.
How dare so-and-so not be impressed
with Love and Fame?
Madam, I feel the same.

about
you
I only
love
forms
from a
private
man's
deficits
a town
like this
people
like this
words
like his

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