Gina Myers
Dustin Williamson

 

 

as per your request

 

I have taken
the plums
& the crystal
meth
from our five
day deal
you were
probably
savoring
for the latest
discoteque
or at least
the latest
grotesquerie;
please forgive
me they were
in sluice, see
& who could
blame me,
you told me
to look away
& away I
looked your
way.
the moment
had passed
to clear
my palate
& the rest
is old hat
over a weird
beard,
chiffon shirt,
& lucid slacks.

 

 

 

 

there aren’t always symptoms, sometimes only an inclination

 

getting fractured box wine
from the five & dime,

looking alive, for signs
of what I'll never do

pick coal from teeth
or miss Miami

or go to Miami
in search of a new

long time long shore
man, to what lengths we go

to tie a knot around sand
w/ wet clumps of kelp in our hands

on a grain belt ripple
swinging on little more than

economy candy & bowery bums
eating off a sandwich board

in moon mood lighting,
this disco gone wrong

the treasure lost, drifting
on a southern drawl

& tattooed knuckles
rusting to the brass ones

 

 

 

 

color code

 

looking for that time
the annuls of science yield
the expert opinion of
tea into many glasses,
the expert taste of
a budding irregular
clothing line—
how we turn fact into
lewd friction
ice cream sodapop
& lye in a cut
the smooth burn of
the blues
& a blue joke
sitting on the back porch
in a black suit