Rue
The barrel tastes a cross between anchovies and eggplant,
warm after entering my mouth. I lie here in a red teddy,
eyes closed, a half naked mannequin. You are the only
one I trust to squeeze the trigger. What I see is a man
who weeps, imagine you the finger releasing
the safety. You saw me an oasis, filled your
stomach until you heaved sand. Sleep
will evade you for a year or two,
then the lines in your face
will fade. I am a cross
between sweetbreads
and sour cream.
Buy me this
last round
darling.
Published in twist
All rights reserved including copyright - Richard H. Fox 2002
