Division St. Row(Fish)

Guppying, grappling,
in behesting a glass-

parallel planular fleeted
with a white-blue, down-

slope recoiled on
that ’45,

roiling sink edged
over-above mind’s

illustrated skate black
(nullity under flesh-flap),

filigreeing on an empty oracular
lime-limbed socket stop.

Inaugural Redress

A Haman on the Hudson,
An Il Duce with less hair,
Attila by the terlet,
A partial Hitler with a harlot.

A Stalin tanned and aged,
A Franco shoeshined up,
A Marcos caught in traffic,
A Milosevic in a cup!

A Pol Pot on the seven,
Mobutu in Times Square,
An Amin when he sucks Doritos,
A Pinochet who apes mosquitoes?

A Khan of clubland bathrooms,
A Mao snorting cheap-cut-speed,
Our own Caligula with no serotonin—
What a shandah (hustling swampland leads).


An open haired mother, open
haired boy, closed to a sea-blue

washed in the tide light.

A moon cretin shape,

dribbled nape, a sampling

of red goldmines (and evening

Day bespeaks aroma, encrypted sales

pearls cottoning surf
past a gravelbed of earth.

I throw up

astride the fast cars,

a widening battle-line.