what counts is the mythology of the self
or listening to Fats Waller at 3 A.M. or
at least until you realize that you havent got
a phonograph we were remembering
things through touch Gretta, dear,
what are you thinking about?
Batmans erotic memory
something about capes
about that he once saw a father in bed sobbing
about shadowed salmon-pink skirt panels
about Bette Davis sex
in frames flat colors and KA-POW !
if I were a painter
the therapeutics of movement,
centrifuged melancholy Id think her
bodyd worn out.
handbones arm and elbow
cold fields where I was aware coming to redoubts afloat
on our dreams
Ill never forget the way you looked
the hallucinations for all they were worth.
There isnt much to tell.
I went to college.
I can still speak English when my job demands it.
the talking self which goes hand
in hand with the fucking self) you ran of course
I was chasing you