MY NORMAL TRANCE
I am a nighttime wizard. I can't do
anything right in the day : At night
the gloss pages float through he
windows even when freezing cold.
They come prepared, like the scattering
of little wolves to an altar of delight.
I don't even have to speak; it's spoken
for me. I wear sidearms like the sheriff
and I punch like Muhammed Ali : a
suckered blind man blackened by
degree, a punch-drunk mobile home,
a watering trough for dead horses.
Can't you see what my elixir is?
Try it one time, love, and relate to
me the quotient-matter that you feel.
Fifty bungled Texans, five-hundred
tropical dancers, flying like a
butterfly to sting like a bee.