detroit rhyme in the city that you see, where are those arms around me

10 Jan

———-

detroit rhyme in the city that you see, where are those arms around me

 

baby, you don’t need no perfume

because you’re the sweetest taste i could of tasted

but i’ll probably put all this badly

my poor little rich american girl

like a warhol celluloid

nearly dead like a hospital bed

with the plague sweat in the air

winking at the shrink

i love you, neuroses, truculence and all

my last drink upon last call

a rifle long-hanging on the wall

restless

long after the fall

the clerk closing shop

daddy’s a religious artifact

(a capitalist in a dusty robe)

mommy’s a cold fact

(stoned oppression, eyes and teeth)

in a long black dress

so there’s never an apology behind the lips

we simply bleed into a wistful kiss

no wet behind a blue vein

she was naked when i saw her last

and i was talking about lennon

drinking tea

she put her fingers slow on me

and promised to stay

like a little girl who would be born one day

or a holiday greeting from a coke dealer i used to see

with (obviously) memorable frequency

before i chose to change

and exchange my memories for words

lost like all sympathy

she put her fingers slow on me

and

baby, you don’t need no perfume

because you’ve always been

the sweetest taste i could have tasted

that wept

upon my skin

you left

the home where we used to live

screaming in a dream

monsters coiled around each other

needed for a while

finally

but not to last

————

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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