Cooking beans & rice.
Returning every goddamn cigar butt
Samuel Fuller left smoldering on my Persian carpet.
Smelling cornbread & watching dust-quiet songs
falling on the tongues of handmade shoes.
Tasting a well-turned phrase.
Pondering the distance between heaven & hell
in the eye of the bee. Watching glass melt.
Lassoing bot-flies with a lover's hair.
Mailing turn-of-the-century postcards.
Singing with Sandy Samantha & Miranda
& writing their names in the river with a knife.
Standing beside chiaroscuro mannequins akimbo.
Making continuous line drawings with a green pen light.
Dancing mazurkas in moonlight
& soft-shoeing sunrise.
Witnessing the singular moment.
Thumbing the petosky stone in my pocket.
Ignoring the glass eye & tattoo of the last
mukhtar to sing down rain in this desert
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