to be read aloud in staccato con brio:
Words words words
I make my loving from the
words words words
For instance
these words
the beginning of
another story.
Let's call it
2 trench coats
(or a cure is discovered
for polio).
She comes to he
who is a stranger
she is wet
through and through
her hair is
curling all around her
he is dry
as a bone
he has been
being taken pictures
of
for the Fashions of the Times
layout.
A trenchcoat in July.
But no matter
he doesn't sweat
his pores are too fine
for that.
Scuse me she says to him
tapping him on the shoulder
which he whose profile cuts
the air like an
origami bird
doesn't like
scuse me she ways
again and again and again.
Your attention
I want your attention
please.
he turns to her
he looks at her
trench coat
a good coat
in good shape
she may be worth
listening to
at
for
have you seen him?
she asks
him he says
him who?
God, she says
have you seen him?
He pauses poses
thinks
(Beauty can think, too)
and replies,
no.
No, he says
again
no.
But if I do
(for he expects to see him
but without leaving this earth),
if I do, he says,
you got anything
you want me to tell him?
Oh yes
she says
tell him tell him
tell him this for
me will you?
You're hurting me
You're hurting me
You're hurting me
You're hurting me
(how many times I got to say)
You're hurting me
You're hurting me
You're hurting me
You're hurting me.
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