no comment

bout how many drinks i had before writing this.


Love under 21 is the influence of yellow hair under the yellow elm
A hysterical spiral of light,
the mauve old-new-England houses slung low as bunkers
Where black paint blisters on the doors,
a burnt skin,
a wonder at all this,
the camera that bells out light
an old tulip a hysterical object
clicking like a crab ---
It’s you after all under that gemmed riot,
Stumbling down the main,
too young to drink and with the lines of your corduroy jacket
impressed on your exhausted cheek,
slurring your liquid syllables,
and your mouth a big o under the moon out white all afternoon,
where young boys pummel scatter and toss
tousle pounce and simmer for hours,
until the evening arrives in its shimmering bridle
ready for our next advance.