Poetry & Prose

Man Watches Man



Fake hardwood and matching gold teeth.

You lived across from the Oakdale Discotheque.

You were rippin capsules,

Your brain was wet,

You knew all the words.

Cola bottle shake baby

I was a cup shaped receptacle,

I was stuck between plastic fruit and la cucarachas,

I watched with one eye open.

The tenor moaned of post-matrimony under a pulsing discoball,

Touching himself slowly with sleeping hand.

We danced like tire swings.




You lay on your face,

In a tomato field by our house.

A halo circled each of your toes:

Insects that wanted more juice.

You were a pestle forgotten in the stalks,

Left remembering soil.

The sun fell as I ran.

My headphones slipped down,

But a deep throated singer still hummed:

Freaking my mind out

so far out, oh my

I can’t unremember

Even if I want to.

You would pretend to be Greek

while I watched Athens swing between your legs.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *