for Lisa Carver
The last Salem One-Hundred crushed
In definite summer, infinite somehow
What-is is at the same time
She opens/closes a magazine.
She lies down, she sees possibilities----
In early spring a punk kid blooms.
In early summer in upstairs rooms----
Fast. Slow. Somewhere.
for Nicole Dexter
The millionth flower flows out towards open sea.
I don't know you, you don't know me.
Inside the meat locker tap tap.
I've learned to love my trap.
Nothing is wrong.
Nothing is right.
Turn off the lights.
This is the night.
for No One
You sing your signature tune on a soundstage.
No crowd, only recordings of crowds.
Flesh, cling to it, you've got it.
You've got the beginning, the middle, and the end of fun.
I know you, baby. I know you well.