12/17/06

Now You Say I Hold The Key



of course I do
my foot hooked to this bar stool
brain
drooling

shot glasses stacked
like poker chips

I'm a burglar
with a calisthenic soul
I have a crooked face
and a large milky bed
you can rest there
still as a toy
and in the morning
I'll put on my white dress
and dust your skin

we'll be eggs
fat as generals
solid as blood

we'll be each others trigger-
happy punctuation