a shooting

Malagna once stole a line from me:
“my feet touch China in the dream.”
I now take it back.

there is an empty wine bottle at
each end of my radio.

my feet touch Yucatan in the nightmare.

little dogs a walking go.

I repeat the troth in jumbo.

(there are certain people who do certain things
well
and some people don’t do certain things
well
and that’s when it evolves into some people
becoming performers and the remainder of the people
being performed to).

there was one gunshot and then a woman screamed POLICE!

I wonder if the hair in my ass is
grey?