Smell

Which someone decreed
That not producing fruit is useless
Swimming in a river of lead
I coasted slowly upstream
Like the long hauled barge in the
Image in the Tretchikov
But with independence
For my own thin men and hauser
If the tale is told in candour
It is full of awkward bends
And of fallings back against the flow and weir
But the weird cargo and the lice
I collected on the route
Enhanced the plainess of the way
And as I plodded on
I'd not noticed the abrupt
Change in colour and heat
So stopping under an ancient apple tree
I wiped my brow
And thought of you
So this is my postcard

Why do you hate the smell of advantage so
Kitty girl
When you have papa's riches
Laughing like a bitch behind you
In the room of red
I bet you're still adorned with effort
That not in an unkind way is hiding
Your picky unhappiness
I felt such relief
Stealing silent goodbyes
A chrome bumper peeling in the rain
Your polished skin sprayed and spayed
By the distant neon angels glow
In semitic alleys
Your evil humour rattling with the drunks
And discarded paper of the lower east side
A lubbock flappy fleece coat dripping
Lank from the puddles
And in the neon afterglow
I came to think that
When an endonym fires its vocalist
It can only speak with foreign tongues
And so unlikely be proficient
And this i saw as i stood in the alley
Admiring your robust laugh
The quirky drunks rollicking
And trying to look up your skirt

So an enterprise is only as good as its objective
You may qualm and say where is mine
Somewhere out here
A mean of dust and sun perhaps