Harangued around by dashing collar,
bonafides de-fanged

with plastic tie, with warm confidence
men returning.

Receipt present, a cool reception
questionable, if iffy.

Hardly heard weakened strains
of ‘Tomorrow, Wendy’,

unlisted yet, still–motion, intravenous
bad precedent-suicide,

the dozing, dirty Santa Monica blonde,
whenever euphemized as Hades-

Gehenna crowned; The reel nicked up,
bits yellower, fractured bicuspid

returns mislaid to early dawn,


marketable, meatless, searingly perpetual,
headliner maquette


The New New American Low—.

Worth Walking

My case open and so it will,
too, close, sugary now, inflections

befuddling, then, Pandora settled by
younger court building

on watch; raised, go up, and all
use justified.

Germinations, concrete, chessboard-
topped tables.

A Chinatown park: I smoked this
Berkeley-harvest, peanut-butter-

scent marijuana thicket in, left
me free of observable speech –

lacking evidence was
nothing short,

(nothing but the harder
measure) a bliss.