Ninety-Six Tears (Roof XIII)

Poetry. "I. The little death, first. There is no such thing as an emergency in the poetry world. Trained on. Like a third armpit. The advantage of the cordless model. You went and had all this shipped in. Promoting camaraderie. And didn't think to ask me if I needed any notions. DutyTour in a 'hot.' Deep enough so no one would notice. In fact, not foundationless red herrings. Play in traffic. I have dollars tonight. But closer approximations of what only a few new in actuality. Scram. Shove off. Go fan it. Major repairs. Get lost. Make like Houdini. A showCause order. In line. Somewhere in the Dominican Republic. Steak fries. The American plan. Purloined and subsequently repainted and furnished with new serial numbers, for the fourth time. An admit list in addition to a guest list. The almost vaudevillian realization that all thoseTightest paranoid fantasies. Beat it. Go take the air. All serving as witting dupes. Convection summary. The fickle incandescent. Devouring the characterization. Bought or sold, were. Take a walk. The techs and the temps. All walks of life. Basque cocktail lounge. The shame of God"—from NINETY-SIX TEARS.