there's a bottle | 1 |
of tacky | 2 |
aspirations | 3 |
on the dirty blue counter | 4 |
Le Champagne des Ginger Ales | 5 |
it's bright green and gold. | 6 |
the pizza, raw like torn flesh | 7 |
burnt from the falling pillars | 8 |
that couldn't support the tower. | 9 |
| |
China's overpopulation owing to slavery | 10 |
and cheap labour | 11 |
of minimum wage pay | 12 |
dripping tomato sauce | 13 |
on her new dress | 14 |
her insides spilling out. | 15 |
| |
fingers numb | 16 |
from an emotional ice age | 17 |
chucking change at chulos | 18 |
and senoritas. | 19 |
| |
the scarf of a hundred colours | 20 |
muting into muddy browns | 21 |
as everything does | 22 |
in the end - | 23 |
the accumulated years - | 24 |
adding up to a brawl in | 25 |
a pizza parlor. | 26 |
| |
the Spaniards | 27 |
screaming of lost spices | 28 |
| |
my dreams sit sterile | 29 |
the buzzing yellow glow | 30 |
of a gaudy convection light | 31 |
bits of topping falling through. | 32 |
| |
year after year | 33 |
the count down to | 34 |
another | 35 |
| |
words of the prodigal child: | 36 |
"time's up". | 37 |