| From the Fall 1989 issue of Asymptote. : |
![]() DOWN by Kim Longacre You make a lot of jokes and you gotta live 'em down traffic lights blot the wet pavement this body hard body soft against the sky against a cause to reflect your name a secret word a plan an action after all after fallin apart at the seams gun eyes firing past one light into one million lights smoke and sulphur finding bleeding and there I am at the butt of it all fooling around fooling myself kind of dancing more like tripping your spot lit proxy so blind outa whack hip and cool for one fraction of every eternity over and over like a square wheel bam down bam down bam, gonna stay there? Asking me that with those gleaming pistols bouncing light one million times sending it on spending my pride like it grew on trees going down that's my hand red yellow green damp and soft falling brick hard by those banging wheels to get you by. |