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Wednesday, April 1, 2009

the two thousands -- 1

I was certain these were not the cities themselves,
not the ghosts of cities.

These were not beyond the run-of-the-mill.

They were bodies
vastly functioning

their oil and currency
the center of
exegesis

stealing seventeen minutes
for polite orgies
& local news.

We could imagine illustrious cities their bronze networks ascribing
cuckholds
& age gaps.

The consolations of pornography
dried all over my face so whatever they could do for me
was nil.

I’d opened up for it, looked straight into it
as usual.

It was admittedly
an hour’s drive
looking away from one’s fingers
at sedans

I’d take it that way
every killer treatise

lost in circulation (again).