the bath towel

 

 

    the bath towel on your head
    a few drops shine
    you stand next to the bed
    in the fainting light
    you eye
    the mountain on the table
    of cold meats
    tomatoes
    juicy fruit
    cream
    bottles waiting for their turn
    and you ask
    are we besieged

    yes
    hide under my
    friday night tent
    roll in like a toy train
    maneuver around the
    station
    but ooh slowly
    you're leaking fuel
    around the intramural fires

 

 

wh
2006-11-26