Chocolate 3 iPhones
Abject despicable, love, dismissed blue fish caught by
Twelve drunked-up fishermen’s nets,
Mired in
Circus-clown, elephant lust, which apparently my
Daughter, at 20, has not experienced yet. She in
Beijing, me absorbed sponge in an American spiral café
In an Einstein downtown light
Where a temporary-light she, not my daughter perhaps
In India all gurued up,
A temporary café she in the poets’ prison Sing Sing
Downtown cafe
With iPhone
Latest version No. 6
In a scarf, she in a skirt, she which
Looks at other boys, me, blanked soul possessed
Of thighs, tattered upon a
Broom pole, distressed soul at his Olympics best stealing
From William Butler Yeats, sensitive faggot, Dublin brained
Faggot from Dublin.
8:30 a.m., invisible Yupik God
The café stuffed like a Easter chicken with fat-braded girls, hair
Black, Breck, Aloe-creamed, Vitamin E girls, women’s liberated hair
Banged and brushed then ironed at the Main Street salon shop
Of Sister Margaret Eleanor, Queen Sister Eleanor
Curled, I wrinkled in the
Brown abdomen clown of
Protozoan amoeba lust.
I must buy an iron, plastic, God Target, which is my propulsive
God, my iPhone incensed next to the 10 a.m.
Catholic casket of Fr. Torsiello in holy
Dust—Tarzan’s infinite girlfriend—
A casket floating like purple, jaded balloons in the West
Wind southern hero-gray generals my faggot iPhone
Mother zonked