episode xanax 78: poetess-streetwalker, visiting park SR-71…

by hassanisabbah

Posted to Poetry on 2003-10-28 10:02:00

in which papa smurf and her witness
a manifestation of peter orlovsky
in the tattoos of a vandal

out there, by the wings black,
winds waft in juice
t-bird picnics
of glacial marginalization
words never pulled
off the shelves of
tenured liars

whining
with the cadence of
emily post , she never
had a roll, a fated
tumble of cutoff
denim, a grill of
fang within her
grapey lips

pops
could lay some
ink though,
warpaint for
the semi-insane
cooks, crooks
that run city hall
a signifier
that yawps
in iron


and in the lame eye
of a pyramid
some slavic
daffodil,
saying, smile,
yankee,
you have
an asshole