LOST AISLE OF DOGS (SHOPPING SAFEWAY)
Kill only things you understand, all else
let go. The maid spanks her lord like clockwork.
Bring me the sweat of Scottie Pippen, bankers
and brokers, meter maids. Analyze skin
for its content of wind. Excuse me, while
I kiss the skull. Birthing cows twitch like fish
on neon flies, the eddy circling backwards.
The kayak drills your stomach with its fist,
inside out Eskimo rolls the Klondike
caper. Eastern gods of yen buy Hawaii
not to mention Manhattan Kansas. Bulked
on steroids, yakuzas finger victims. Go slow.
Clip coupons. T-bills dogshit in rising
interest rate scenario but milkbones still
milkbones. Breath better, coat glowing, mind
sharp. The checkout girl has VPL and bags
under her armpits. Muzak makes the checks
go down like Darvon. Sting by strings, waltzing.
I’m no Martha, I’m no Vandella. Breast
tissue does not solve the problem. Pith helmets
dangle over Dopp kits, raised pleasure
dots packing. Don’t jump to delusions here.
The countryside of ancient Rome combines
aqueducts with plastic pails, blue cranes, brown
flats: an eight-by-ten eye is big enough to
squeeze it. I’m falling apart here is what
Dustin says in the midnight hour, dobies
sniffing heels. Never help a victim. Go
seek help, wine or gun. A bullet in the nose
beats a quail in the bush, red foxes leaping.