she had huge thighs and a very good laugh she laughed at everything and the curtains were yellow and I finished

there he is: not too many hangovers not too many fights with women not too many flat tires never a thought of suicide

the elephants are caked with mud a… and the rhinos don’t move the zebras are stupid dead stems and the lions don’t roar the lions don’t care

swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current

is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown

you’re a beast, she said your big white belly and those hairy feet. you never cut your nails and you have fat hands

my first and only wife painted and she talked to me about it: it’s all so painful

murdered in the alleys of the land frost-bitten against flagpoles pawned by females educated in the dark for the dark vomiting into plugged toilets

I stop my car at the signal I see her walking past the graveya… as she walks past the iron fence I can see through the iron fence and I see the headstones