Blank Black
Black death blank turquoise black
In the corner he would not consume 12
Nymphs they are immortal adored on the
Cover of Vogue Magazine how could he?
The blender full
Of the inconsequential women now
I love them, too, in their show-horse
Platform shoes first prize I am done, I am done
A lonely king, like Lear, one Japanese samurai warlord
Sword stuck like pecans in my gulliver
66, the number of Harvard Delmore Schwartz’ words the
28 women naked bathing for saint men under 40
Bedraggled for love with their Nikon cameras
On the shores of Istanbul or Tanzania