Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Kindergarden Imlpant

That sneaking suspicion that nothing has changed

new haircut and the shirt that makes me sweat

sleepy Basinger offers me pet names and winks

then there is that song flashing that on this, again

only a martyr now, it rebounds me to another night

my fireside whiskey partner and her real fake eyes

lavender spaghetti strapped impossibility, wasting

she and me, we act our parts as a different play plays on

inside she's already mine, primed to be displaced

we share cigarettes I don't want, secondhand yellow kisses

silly as it is, that and this is what taxis me to here and there

like absurd notions only backed by the Green party

words, this style, seeded at blue table #2 in Mrs G's class

little Melissa Earing, that smile, the beginning and end of me

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