- Non-Erotic Poetry
- 12.16.19 Ode to Hitchcock & Romero
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I been cleaning. Cooking turtle. Then big chunks of chuck steak. I hoped they didn't think I'd gone mad. The universe brought me again to see her. I had every intention of filming the birds but was interrupted by an old couple asking for Oysters. I don't know what draws me to her but I was boldly eyeing the tattoo on her husband's forearm. She talked about when we mimicked two tough cops fighting crime plus the woes of womanhood. We shared dreams. Mine of the undead. Hers of a monster lurking. It wasn't anyone we knew. Her slurs make me uncomfortable. I couldn't, as always, get out of the door.
