Filed under: Poetry
Dwayne Smith of Culver City looks through bay windows
gestures in two fingers
dual action of a single motion – to the girl on the other side
but she doesn’t smoke, although he looks like Ferris Bueller
she’s a bit of a slut today, but cigarettes give you cancer
cigarettes tucked behind the ear
cancer of the aural cavities
dwayne smith shakes his, his toss of hair
spins in wool loafers
vesting
and she’s tied to his gaze because there’s that thing about him, that wants to know him
but a lot of people have that
I guess that makes him a popular guy
- twist and shout
dwayne smith spins into yesterday’s Seymour Savage,
Savage love, Seymour strokes his cat
who’s nearly bald
wonders if maybe he should get a daschund
for obvious reasons
maybe he’s fat, he wonders
for obvious reasons
his friends wonder if he’s a danger to himself
he never bred, you know
and his spice cake turns the noses of both teams
- a mental bender for the brave young man walking his weiner dog on Davie, thinking it was dead today
but there were still symbolic violences
muffled by the bell jar
in the City of Glass
They hypothesize about the role of control cast by the status of power relations
we are evolving out of relations
He wants her for her smoking potential
While Seymour wafts the odors of his gingerbread house, up and down the rainbowed lanes
Strong jawed confidences will pry her from
pry her from her better minded grips
but she’s a bit of a slut today
not very much of a grown up.
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