Thursday, November 12, 2015

7437. THIS CRAZY LANTERN

THIS CRAZY LANTERN
This crazy lantern has broken my head
and I can't find a thing. There was a
ministration here of needs and duties,
but I don't know where it's gone. I'm 
sitting in this dark-wood-paneled cafe
like some famous gay Parisian with
nothing to lose  -  to pick up other men
in loafers, pink socks, a marbled travel
journal and pen. Devious and unctuous
bullshit  -  to be sure  -  but then again
Philadelphia's not my home. I can roam.
Even the girls get pretty as they pass, and
I can switch at will, Bill, or Jill. Until.

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