My thoughts don't come home.
I am a hound chasing the tail
of its intestines.
Seeing her come home
was like seeing Santa Claus
on Columbus Day.
By the time I came
home, my epidermis was
already erased.
Part One:
Not To Be,
Or, To Be At Love
I wanted one and no others. I have
a wool mane made of real soft cotton gauze.
Cold women want this medicine of mine.
But Men often eat meat Without reason.
I put seasoning on My Woman's jaw.
I become Lover and she turns to salt.
We keep quite a long history at hand.
You will remember once having a man.
Before tonight's end we will make amends:
Again Again Again Again Again
