Supernoir/Grisly Girl Headshot


It’s a tight circle                                               a strange deviation

            and I might die in the shuffle                           like Harlow


as I overnight ragcurl and victory roll

            the platinum arm of the law.


You could not choose between           the gold-digger and me

            when I still believed in my life

like soft porn it depended on light.


                        We drank some rum                my white blonde a halo

                                    I sketched her striped dress and the house,

                                    the house made us listen to records.

                        You whipped my haunches      so hot and so dreamy


I forgot where I was. I stumbled the path.

            I faked my own death.



Spiders are waterproof             over the concrete

            baby stars absorbing my blood.

I’m too impatient        to lighten as desired

            to dissolve that bad year          to let you ride

                        when I, lemon fresh

                        am not quite called to anything.


Bees die when they sting you               not when they sting me

                        and I keep the fake diamond

                        the French cigarette


humming rum baby, run          from the destruction

            or from that someone              destruction will fuck.

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