one for R.O.

I give you the fancy to
push and shove   out
over me–
dangle me as a
clown card
or as a tic-tac
of 89%

I not only paid
my friggin’ dues
I invented them
and doubled the

I’ve triggered-off
the clit of your
with Humphrey Bogart
and some desperate
laughter against
the chopping
(chopping, slicing,
beating, icing).

but I am not nearly
the monument I pretend
to be
and I really shouldn’t
blow it all
away (your 12 million
dollar man)

my gloves are in
the drawer
and my fingernails
are dirty

and most nights and
days I hang
sideways or

looking for your

and all the way from
to San Diego
from Miami Beach
to Anchorage

periods become
ends of sentences

and the nudey bars
are empty.

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