Chicano Poet

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Stanyan Street Feat

The girl who lives on the second floor
rips happiness.

The old couple drags itself
to buy the few things it can think of.

On TV, starving children appear beautiful
to us,

and in the midst of this argument,
a diligent hand protrudes from a lake.

Up above La Guardia, the wings of an airplane
gasp for air,

and by now the girl on the second floor
attacks her clitoris viciously.

Intimidated by the taxi,
the defeated old couple calls its daughter: you.

What’s the point?
Why did I marry Seinfeld’s sister?

Yet, I must remember that you want
sex to be oh, so romantic.

Note to self: we can not all be
Rod McKuen---try Dom de Louise.


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