Like your hair is slowly melting across your forehead causing your eyes to close and your chin to lift

“You were my death:
you I could hold
when all fell away from me.”

Paul Celan

                   

A horse collapses in the middle of an alley
Leaves fall on him
Our love trembles
And the sun too.

                                           Jacques Prévert

SECRETS FATTIE

underground sugar beet pits

and the oozing marshmallow paste

the huge bloated machine gun turnips

from the pores of which a sugar syrup

petrified upon touching. Well anyway

a small doorway the sugar and the tango

down the circular stone steps a giant

cavernous vault and a giant boiling

a duplicating machine how loathsome

uh, of uh, the lucky, uh, blue glitter

dissolving into another incarnation

JACK SMITH

She had an horror of rooms she was tired you can't hide beat