is that a ghaZal or R u just happy to c me

the bus driver acts like he can’t fit. but he, inching forward,
does. the Straights of Gibraltar. give me a cigarette already


in the dim where candles tickle reflexes run turnstiles over agility
and finger prints on the glass were meant to bruise flowers


he was trying to cut finely grab-it-all on the lane
dancin’ over seams, bright glare, and buzz rattle


i’d like to be more like you Woody Allen, your health,
balding, without skill at apology, women changing into flats


O devil dervish you’re obliterated i hit the smart bomb
one life to live. can't we negotiate


i got a letter from my pen-pal in Spain who lives in the mountains
as a child she played in Lorca's garden before it was a museum


...&

i saw a dumpster filled with Waterloo
one's trash is another's merchandise