It is still pretty early. I'm not sure what time it was, but
the Kansas City train stops at a siding
and two boys fly on and on towards the village.
This night club: The Lavender Room
is in the ruts -
Every stump stares up in its path.
I think of maybe hanging up on my parents
cos they lurch out of sight
as aroused watch-dogs give wings to their feet.
As a matter of fact, I'm the only
one touching the ground
I can't stand it much longer -
She still has nice, pretty little ears
(spectators of the ball agree)
and at last, breast to breast
you'd like her. I mean if you
manage to get any dope
your pulses will s l o w d o w n.
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![five [yellow] poems](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GktUmaxdCRs/S6uXSkmtc4I/AAAAAAAAAdE/iLeXO5glNh4/S220/book2.JPG)
1 comment:
It's interesting to me how these flow quite smoothly - each 'conversation' actually reads like a monologue - which makes me think it would be great as an 'anti-play' with people reciting these monologues in a way that is not play-like, anti-dialogue - it then could be billed explicitely as a performance response to the three source novels? But I do want to see how it will work a la bookwork, too.
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