the book on that glass coffee table is
at the edge of the novelty coffee cup;
the trail leading to this & that & others
is what should be infinity; the magazine
is only a quarter of that; red & yellow
yuppies running & walking in coffee
can lives of awful aluminum with widowed
dog walkers in vintage white newspaper
wedding gowns; as the blogs restore
the Korean kingdom to moonstruck
tabloid beauty queen perfection; this one book
is over wet & dry for the lonely sons
many of whom are cute Puerto Rican
transgender hookers; the old poet going
outside to smoke a ten dollar cigar leaving
his ugly yuppy date at the bar drinking