Lolita on the subway Old men stare They squeeze her flesh with their imagination She is fourteen, ripe, and white. She stares my way, hardening my blood Her brown devil eyes describe speechless acts Nights surrounded by masturbating men And her saying, "I'm a virgin. Do you want to watch." No one refuses the offer of those lost lips. She get off at Union Square.
I played hoops at West 4th Street for the first time since the fall. My shooting was one-for-eight. My defense was still tight. I rebound and pass to the guards. They never return the ball. In New York if you have the ball in your hands, you shoot, so you have to ready to catch a pass and release it within a second. My shooting sucked. No trajectory. No spin. No basket.
This weekend Ann was in a good mood. We went to the Erasers sock-hop. And I thought we were finished. I can't remember why, but we felt safe in each other's arms. A security no words can describe. We no longer fight for time together and sex is no so urgent.
Ich bin sehr hoch.
Four years of German and I can read what I write
DARE THEY NOT TO SEEK HIDDEN, THE SEARCH FOR TREASURE.
The drunk at Ensemble Studio Theater was rough, but at least I didn't puke in public. Red wine, cheap red wine, makes me retch and outside on the street I tossed everything out of my stomach. My nausea can not be cured by water. Only a long sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment