i cut my hair because i want a cloche hat.
i lose weight because i want the 20s to be 10 years ago
my lover and i,
after a while we smile schedules at one another.
fuck it, after a while, we smile plot, and then, embarrassed and sort of shy, we cough horror.
tonight my lover and i talk plain.
pop culture, listen, i want to filch and exploit the animal infant in all of us.
listen, no listen, maybe we should watch tv all the day, he said, as if i didn't know him then, as if our faces were all off on another culture's apparel.
he gave me a bottle of perfume
and maybe that produced a global storm, pommy babies being born everywhere
and maybe i wanted all babies to be born in retort, good sun strangling their grey necks like result
and to prove it, i gurgle the ozone layer, ingratiatingly
and to prove it i can't help but know the author.