call it

Call it the post Card ~
will it be your lovers as it stands down the sun and her body song, bawdy bad

buttocks roll in their stroll -- her sweat peals to my mouth lip of upper lip sweat in

the levantine sun oh the jiggle of the breast as it tops the day naked heart beat

pounds across the desire machine that`s your heart O Irish O French Canadian

Forgotten to write this sort of thing across mouths and sand now your night vase is a

stand over fortune and day

like memory you think of it the sanded wordless checker in the petulant sun maker and mocker as it rattles your cage fit for a road and royal pardon the only one weakened by bets and rallies the false flask of pairs and like this you always turn by the crest a word in your hand man with a toothcomb switch guessrope of hangar desire her back limbering sent by battalions and momentary slipping elapsed in the meal hovering between the beats of your life mortal and immortal you stare other days you are goaded by the wax metaphysical shade of dowries conflated by a wheel held by a lair stuttering along the sidewalk ringing in your notes not classic in its disappointment but rueful in its borderline a perfect nose causing craniums to think fright to flee disappointment to break not laced by the additives your fortune bares to the sky its firmament a local lust trapped in place standing stepped in that repeated pace

guerdon and the kettle open their heart mamba man makes his peace a drug store bottle composed of light look there he goes the gue-rite able at her post switched the swathe of pronoun little sockets hod hold the train your emotives win the moment run into your nick foul as the storm at her shelter

_________________________ So Bc Ad meandered. the walk away city. the tour de ville . the weary wake of its sudden slumber . trim as as a boast battled to be ~