The young woman in a black dress
with a skeleton on its front
is vibrant and oblivious
like a child playing with a skull,
dropping marbles in the sockets
I woke up this morning
with the sight and scent
of bouquets of red roses
assembled on my chest.
when someone
asks how I am
my mind goes
blank.
your face is sticking to my brain
like a wet t-shirt hung up in the
bathroom after we jumped in the
deep end….
vocals rise night static the beach house we
sway to midi music call ourselves karaoke
Tonight I pray to the memory of Li Po
To Rumi to Bukowski to Sandburg
And the living uncaring soul of Bob Dylan…
