Saturday, June 4, 2011

First of the night

America runs on Dunkin'!®
buries me like a fool
looking for greater things
in our pasts, collective
waste water plants on East River
edges of Brooklyn
and the Hudson is cold 
even in winter like 
I wouldn't eat fish caught
at Coney Island
or New Jersey for that matter-
tattoos of orange-purple-white
on all our eternal faces 
undigested paintings
belly-- 

No comments:

Post a Comment