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Vol. XX No. 7 April 2005 |
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 Bitesize Manhattan Pickled on 9th Nicked by a bus, A life-affirming lick On the crotch. Divorcing on corners Waiting for lights Red heads stampede Briefcases in hand. They clog Broadway. Pennies melt into hands Exchanging copper fists Bruising torn flesh Sews streets Into their lush fabric. Wake up Take a dip In the stream of taxi cabs 5.50 an hour 9 to 5 Rolling past penny cans Like shakers in a rocknroll band. An abandoned man In a box house Picks up a can And speaks to The Operator, Ear full of tuna fish.Bored Stiff Staring a mile through the floor I see: Jesters tumbling on butterballs Whee! Whale eggs hatch in a sea full of hooks. Hands of the clock finally fall flaccid Swirl back to tickle a nap on 6. It reeks of entrails, Look at your breath. It freezes and crashes To the floor. Flossing between minutes twice, Bleeding hours to soup Boiling tickets into broth. A grand army holds My eyelids from the promised land, Where we might swim through these halls Exposing our giggling mysteries.
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