CB radio interference—
white
noise Katrina blues echo ancestor
down
muddy metro station—
DC dives the blocks
between
Capitol Hill and Anacostia
trash
fueled well into Maryland—
Prince George’s County
migratory
monarch butterflies
embrace
Jesus, Mohammed, and Buddha—
look
for us in compassion.
Reincarnated beatnick bitch
beats
boys with wooden bats
smacks
one out of the park
Cal
Ripken homerun record
our
last bastion of badass baseballery.
The
Natty Boh Man blinks neon
at
the Domino Sugar plant—
the Inner Harbor
heavy
humid fish stank stew
particle
one way streets
grizzly
beats from the Black Cat
warehouse
for the gutter-punk gypsy-skunk
tattooed
loosey goddess with her head half-shaved.
Urban apocalyptic resistance
to
goddamn hippie tree-huggin butt-plug poetics—
give
us a rhythm we can fuck to.
Why does the sky turn orange at night?
Light
pollution is really beautiful sometimes.
Why do our eyes go to the last mountain?
It’s
a grey residual image of our past.
How can a woman be the cloudy night that licks her hips?
Ride
God’s tongue like a scribe on the Nile.
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