A faint scent, that of a

wetted perfume, arises from the

body that’s writing there

in a white enameled bathtub

a body shuffled by the sub

way– a pen in hand

not using another purple hand

soap. It ponders on the people’s

purple perfume lathered on their faces

“Smile good, else we’re all ashes”



Wet hair, naked *******

all seen on T.V and billboards

Silence– rarely heard in between

the pen’s strokes. Hands between thighs

purple faces buried there

in a white enameled bathtub.

Water drained, in the middle, drenched bills

Cover up the laughed at body of the economy

Feed her with Monsanto and let her hear Trumpets.



A faint scent arises from the American

Body that’s… drowning there

a silky hand of… blue ribbons of… politics

gripping at her panicked throat!



In a Lyon bathtub paper and pencil, October, 16, 2017