Issue 154, Spring 2000
the neighbor's pig, maybeit's not fair
the way they feed that thing. Your hair, under the porch
it reminds me of Jenny, my long-ago one-night stand—
at least we thought it was a one-night stand—at Baffin Bay,
drinking vodka and pissing on the ice in the night air!
And then there was the time on the Ocean Spray—
some affair!—stranded miles from land.
You know, there's something about the crowd's roar
in Madison Square Garden, when the stripper's about to fling
her bra into the audience, and a guy—like Mark Strand,
say—catches it—then the good times begin.
It seems—hey!—the damn dog's going to bring
something—hey!—some mangled thing home in
its jaws! Listen, I gotta go, and when you gotta go.