POST-EXALT THE
EXALTED ONE
I see the CaMeRa was left running; your
lights were on, sex-goddess working late,
with all those reflections on the silver-glass
wall behind you. Oh how you must tire!
-
The little guy, the one with the weasel face
and broken thumb (I saw you writing curses
on that little cast), he looked about 15 and I
wondered what he did. Or what he'd done
already to get this job of glory with you.
-
Pale blue paint on a large room wall.
A mirror above the counter. Three
people sitting around to talk. Really,
what sort of philosophy is that?
I see the CaMeRa was left running; your
lights were on, sex-goddess working late,
with all those reflections on the silver-glass
wall behind you. Oh how you must tire!
-
The little guy, the one with the weasel face
and broken thumb (I saw you writing curses
on that little cast), he looked about 15 and I
wondered what he did. Or what he'd done
already to get this job of glory with you.
-
Pale blue paint on a large room wall.
A mirror above the counter. Three
people sitting around to talk. Really,
what sort of philosophy is that?
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