6/9
The blue cars sighing a little like zippers
unzipped in a breathless studio apt in the midst of
this miserable sonofabitch effluvial moonlight that’s
sweating like a bottle of Mexican Coca Cola in the
Sacramento bus station May 1988 It felt like
a country radio station sobbing sucrose &
Dear John letters & Pictures from Life’s Other Side across a
Formica counter in the midst of Marlowe’s nervous
collapse like a red dwarf star’s collapse like the
red tip of Alice’s Marlboro collapsing into an ashtray amidst a
fistful of ocotillos when it was too late after all & Marlowe
feels like Ambrose Bierce in the midst of
Mexico D.F. in the midst of life & so forth & after all darling
the blue cars come to a stop at the stop sign
Jack Hayes
© 2010
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4 comments:
Ooo...lots going on here. I like the zipper thing!
Hi Willow: Thanks! I actually remember I did quite like the zipper image when I came up with it.
When I read your poetry I always wonder what brought forth this mixture of similes. Where were you or what brought on the connection of Alice's Marlboro and a "fistful of ocotillos"? I wonder how many people know what an ocotillo is or where it grows. Love it!
Hi Lizzy: I think it's the redness that connected for me--these were written in 96, so it's hard to recall--the red blossoms of the ocotillo, the red tip of a lit cigarette, the red Marlboro box. So glad you enjoyed it!
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