From the anthology, Monster Trees, a work in progress.
Word Toccata in A Major Jaundiced ’53 Cadillac in my sweetheart’s carport. She leaves the hole keys inside the empty fish bowl. Hidden in her trunk are a set of golf clubs with knife wounds; Her secret boyfriend with the purple tattoo of a face scar, Recites from shotgunned memory the Love Song by Mister Eliot, As my sweetheart bathes upstairs with a fleeting candle and Camay, Pure white, and scented as eucalyptus breaths in the cooing moonlight. Fevered ’49 Commodore parked luridly in her back alley. He retrieves the hole keys from within the empty fish bowl. Hidden in her trunk are a brace of golf balls with black bruises; Soon he will trudge through fairway greens in pursuit of exotic birds, Reciting Prufrock with two young robins pecking seed before him. Upstairs now, he relaxes in my sweetheart’s bath with Camay and a gun, Pure crimson, and scented as medusae bulbs in the screaming moonlight.
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