26.6.04

Through the Cacophony

The MLS wrap up
She makes $3000/hour
You must be a drug dealer
Back in the day when they
First invented ceiling fans
Condos are more expensive
Than co-ops and there
Are fewer of them
You live and die by
Those rules; financial
Arrangements, absolutely.
There are 12 martini
Glasses lined up with ice
In them. 2nd half
Kettle one, rocks, did
She order yet? No
Problem. Oh yeah, my Name
is mike, I think it would
be. i moved to California
in 1987. Umm, slam down
the mixer pour the pineapple
juice. Scowl. Vapid. You
know how we met each other
in the airport in mexico?
They have very bad tempers
We don’t have anything
Remotely regular—I’m not
Old school. It is so fucked
Up. I’m going home. Yes, sure
Lime, it is not even vaguely
Mine. Vermouth, sapphire,
Campari. Cheers. Where’s C—
This place right here, wall st.
World financial. Yes indeed
That watermelon martini. I do
Water. 3 o’clock last night
I went to cuba
I prefer Jennifer.

1 Comments:

Blogger Leighton said...

r- i applaud your poetry. tonight was the closest i have gotten to poetry- me sitting on the front porch smoking a cigar, my last night in LA, my roomate inside on the piano.
i don't handle this thing called change very well.

29 June, 2004 04:02  

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