WhoKilledKirov

There's a black flag over Helsinki, And there's a yellow cab flying down the city street, And I am prone to stepping off curbs without looking, And there's a man who grabs my arm and says be careful. He is looking at the cement and the way my shoes are tilting, And he asks me if I might spare some change, There is worry on my chin and there is anger on my forehead, And I wonder aloud why he works on Sundays. There's a black flag over Helsinki, And he's turning and he's walking from my view, So I must hasten pace against the oncoming wind, There is hair in my eyes and I think that I might sneeze soon. I put a dime in his hand,

Waking on a Monday, I find the paper at my door, happy little dog wagging storyline tails. I'd offer a biscuit but the editor doesn't come to greet me, and I don't have his number anymore. Smoke rising from the fine lips of the man who takes his coffee on the terrace. He's the furniture of two hippy parents and he's quoting magazine horoscopes in hope they'll prove fulfilling. The men of my life adore. They rub the heels of their feet against my carpet and playfully grab anything to feel the static. I wish my fumbled conversation and the way I wear my hair was electric enough for them. Last night was a party, from below I heard

Los Angeles is where he got lost Brilliant and misleading Anyone can make a dime Serving hamburgers on the boardwalk Camping in the sand down by the ocean Beat cop turns a blind eye for the cash Lucky rides through on a shiny bicycle And offers free hits of heroin Momma sent an envelope of money So he can call her from the payphone after nine Awkward conversation, how's the weather? How's the city? He misses small town America- He thinks of his family. The boys got jobs washing windows At the drop-in, No one's seen Smokey for days His woman says he's got the hiv He's gonna die.  They all gonna. He's picking cigarette butts

I saw a plastic bag run a stop sign On Park Avenue and Sixth. The green light was on a smoke break And we were all sitting like Christmas presents beneath a concrete tree. The tires romanced tiny pebbles With novelty pick- up lines, And Joni was singing on the radio about Cold Blue Steel. You hummed along and beat your fists against the glove compartment. Seems to me, that's something you'd do. When the wind lit up, plastic bag- Break lights, red and shiny. I saw it settle on the cactus in the median Next to the man selling Grapevines. You turned off my radio, and the light changed.

Iron my fingertips against the crease of the seam, and scrawl on the envelope an ambiguous address. When the last multi-hued string of our friendship bracelet frayed- peeled apart like uncoiled copper wires- Could have sworn I felt the wear with every fruitless search; you refuse to stay in one place. They tell me you dream of Hawaii. And a quick handed 200 dollars Makes for easy deliberation. I hope you'll drop me a line Before you take off for paradise. Remember when we sat on the hills and saw small brown children throwing and catching, And you said nothing was ever as beautiful As the way the ball bounced. You might h

We were once Skin and bones. Enviable bodies twined in the unconquered beauty of loving- just enough- and having all too much. Lacquered in effusive frivolities and watchful adoration; Celebrities for being nothing short of shell-shockingly gorgeous, and careless at the way our throats lingered beneath others' lips. We were once Stupid and young. Preening delicate pelts and drinking our fair shares from tinted liquor bottles we traded for sweeping the barroom floor. Casual sex beneath calendars with babies dressed as flowers; Letting the light swing overhead and the blinds bare the show for the private school next door.

So there I was, walking. My feet trampling invisible ants, painting splatters atop a barrage of sunlight. And it was so damn bright - that setting neon fluorescent globe- that I had to squint, field of vision compromised by opaque mascaraless lashes. And BOOM, out of nowhere, something bites my leg, violently tossing its head back and forth, as it gnashes the bones. And I'm thinking, a shark, I've been attacked by a shark. But then I realize I'm on an island here… of sun- crusted cement.  So maybe the thing that bit me is one of those monsters that dwell in the shadows, and he got caught sleeping in past dawn and now he's trap

. Moon, one day short of full, one hit short of cashed; in our only moment of stillness, you choose to kiss me. Moths are swimming in the pool with bougainvillea leaf-life preservers and I'm not listening when you say something like (and I paraphrase): "I feel like you could handle me and it wouldn't leave a mark- if this were a love song, I'd be singing baby, baby, baby." Tasting of the Black and Milds you smoked this morning (which is sweet 'til the aftertaste); your lips are noticeably red around the corners, and it seems my touch could leave us bruised.

. Oh, little crook'd arrow;    sawed from sapling, bone-smooth shaft.    Little arrow of inner divination, I fear'd the knocks would splinter you finely. Oh, little crook'd arrow;    there you have made my eyes run,    shot and kill'd yourself a bird. (My, my) On a doorstep! Clever fowl it were.    Though we spied it, (oh) we are ever so quick;    hidden behind those lamp chains- ones pulled. Spark'd that bulb of creation. I am fat with it,    Now all red and runny;    a little child's winter nose. Pick'd apart with my fingers, the miracle. And I am ever full and satisfied.

. There's somethin' about jumping freight trains. Wind findin' hollows on your body you never knew were there. Livin' right, right-side up, Lookin' forward to back where you come from. Standin' room only, watchin' the watercolor desert wander by flickin' cactus smiles and roadrunner salutations- like that southwest sun, pregnant and risin', whore for the blue sky. Then there's the traveler's siren. She's high and sensual, wakin' me in the night, tuggin' my blanket, rubbin' my thighs, whisperin' "Don't stay too long, No. You, you cant stay too long." Restless, she's got me coming, every hour on the hour with her w