Poetry Archives Bio
February 6, 2008
7:48 PM
the birth of venus
To Paul

shaking on the bus to hell
i break off sugar fingers
sorting like with like

lights  faded smiles  the sour
stench of flesh  windshield wipers
hair  long legs  and an oedipal crime
committed with an umbrella

slamtilt mechanism full force
throws
  me over the granville bridge

standing on applecores
fishtails and heads   lessons
learned and the chilly
breeze  i think

isn't it great that the night isn't
that the sky isn't  that the
sugar fingers  and mistakes

and the morning
isn't
but the poet
is