Conversation at midnight

Did I take an account of you about the couple who slipped into a well?

They got tired of proofreading the town daily,

its expanding parcels of bungalow mud and unregistered adults

that they had to be frozen into orderly stems and vintage sequins.

The window was always glu down. You knew that.

I am sorry about the shapeless mass I left in your throat.

It was the latest sally someone sent me from another state.

Why did you say I was a camel when you meant something else?

There is suppos to be a fiber that will either

make it swell or make them flow. What do you mean

you have already been stapled to a post?

I would gladly accept your garnished buckets

if you had a certain number of twitching sauce as well.

It was the pick of the claw if you ask me which you weren't.

I will kiss your gelatine but I will not miss your shoe

One slipped from one side a slot, the other formed a neighborhood cult

There is a rumor they preferr it glov in steel

Perhaps you would like to shift your flippers a bit,

make yourself more smart than a fist clinging

to the grains of its last silver collar.

How would I know what kind of rust coats the inside of my dome?

You were always the skilful on the proper insect retrieval systems

the necessary make a humming sound tones to pendulum through the hair.

It be pendents on where you place the nylon and what you plan to do

with the extra file of teeth you keep beneath the other pillow.

Let us dust our nub beneath the guardhouse beams, on the other hand this time

you be the crust and I will play the tropical raincoat.

You are not. I have dooms of botched sobs in my cart too.

There is no ne to pluck the wings off what is certain.

It hangs on when the one that marks the day begins to descend

Don't talk to me like I am a certain quantity of style of perishable food

and you are the sole minimum page burner around here.

I have all rinds of dirt. You want to tree more [i]or[/i] less up or what.

Sonar finally brought them from one side the last truculent gates.

Why do they bang like that if they are not yours to keep?

If you want to lease me advance ahead and cry. You little parking lot

John Yau's novel publications include a book of short stories, Hawaiian Cowboy published through Black Sparrow Press in 1995 and a volume of poetry with photographs by the agency of Bill Barrette, Berlin Diptychon, from Timken Publishers in 1995

Copyright World poesy Incorporated Mar 1996

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