With a body on the right
& one on the left my impulse
is to slap that authority figure. Think
of the consequences: skin drift, wholesale
sex providers pressed against your mother
in her grave & what will happen
to body hair? All those patters but will your dance
be down pat? Already, in Central Station
there's white powder on everyone's face
& we don't know why or how
it got there. It's not China so they're not
marked for execution, on their way to a firing squad
out in the west, Mt. Druid, St. Marys . . . or
are they? Should we consider an approach
to someone to ask for an apology
in advance? How cautious
should it be? And what if some black-eyed Susan
slaps me silly just as I open my mouth? Steve
takes a stark view, & I think
I will too. A whole
or a partial wedding, I'll opt
for the latter – share the bride with the bucks
& anyone else who comes along for the ride. Wedding
limousine as burial urn. Upright, coins
in our mouths. Cut the loss & count it
as a blessing. This way she'll never know
how much I'd miss those sessions with Eden
& Rachael & the others. Raise a hand in Roxby Downs
& if you're lucky it will fall in Rome.