Poésie part II
NIGHTS IN RED SATCHEL
Bizz, beep, brrr-ing by gosh it was the doorbell I most quickly opened knew who it was cuz- Buzz, his eyes staring at my scarlet-red mini dress- guess where we’re going O’Hare, I asked, inside the box was a gift opened it underneath tissue wish you could fly with me to Par-eee card said- a red satchel with brass studs very industrial looking luscious like lovely lipstick-red let’s go- Oh, I fell Eiffel to her (me) was my favorite monu-meant to take along my beautiful bag, but put passport inside outside zippered pocket so handy-dandy can deet, deet, deet, deet woke up- all a dream? seemed real what a deal as my hand touched the red satchel.
SOFT, SQUISHY, NOT WIRED
Magnificat, magnificat, magnificat, magnificat, magnificat try saying that forty times over this dark, dingy hotel but it was that cheap good-tasting mexi-food there on a corner table piled high with usual papers, presses, postcards, polyphonic pullouts I saw it dunno what it was pictured next to a brown bear and humpty-dumpty in blue how could it hear or talk had none of the above to communicate oh gosh how cute it was though like the kind I used to cuddle in my baby bed most likely still now do… soft, squishy, not wired one of the few things left in life itself to kiss….ha thought I was a meat’n potatoes man were you wrong… wait that’s it- the Munsters hairline shit did they ever have a pet!
ART IST HAPPENINGS
Tiny Tim told toy boy Pink Floyd what would you do if Nixon ate a rabbit habit hopper hell-of-a-artist lonely losers letting luck happen to be in a war-haul out the “blue” electric chair man dances over and over and over on minimalist “isms” it impressionable in fact-not, said de K. on his way to the bar ballot ballet big Barishnikov balancing his pas de deux, duh, and you expect to blink but only three times during the screen test?
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