PRESENTATION OUTLINE
thick hailstones in
April I keep swallowing
my tail
the newest leaves
red like skin numbers
and mummery
all these lights they're humming uncomfortable
in every position
no continuous skyline
the relentless efficacy
of breasts
behind the buildings the lake obscured by fog
downstairs they fight
balled up in the
shower her wet dress
the soughing darkness
wood smoke in the
warm afternoon a deaf
woman talks to herself
whispers in another language the intermittent rumble of the elevator
a door tied down to
the top of a car the stink
of cut grass
not much to say
about the rain there's
a helicopter
The Martian Chronicles
read over the phone
unsteady hand jobs
too windy for a hat
sheets of newspaper slap
the chain-link fence
dream hungry
the call of a crow on
the telephone pole
saxophone practice
upstairs the machine
fills with water
in the brief blue flash of the train's light on the tunnel wall Abhor
slowing down
you can smell
yourself
Lost & Found Times
No. 41
November 1998
antantantantant.
wordpress.
com.
