A gauze
over
a sideways
gaze
I
aver a venus
I mean
there's fur &
filigree I agree
to be
blind
I find the cold
shoulder
I grow bolder
when nobody notices
my many
crutches
I rush to barricade
I beg
to be in the bass
saxophone; a cerulean
ovesight
the warm cadre
in the backroom
mirrors the gloom
outside
put on your red shoes
& tremble
like a flower or
delirium tremens
wholesome thugs
trade this for a spear
& a jawbone &
the band still
played on until their turn
against the wall
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