Pissing on the Sidewalk

One night you remember the sink full of ice cubes
& the screendoor chiaroscuro sectioning every loose molecule
of moonlight
              & the Tibetan Book of the Dead stencil kit
                                                spread out across the bed
the way chopsticks circle eternity on the map of her hips
& a seagull swims thru this poem at the wrong time
                              but it all happens so fast you
forget to load your stun gun
sweating on a circumstantial street corner in Santa Monica California
like an orchid with a bloody nose

              It might hurt but it’s awful pretty she said

                              20,000 leagues beneath the parking lot

                                                where the shadows of palm trees sway
                                                behind my sunglasses

& like a shipwreck in a bottle the sky caves in & the tide rolls out
& the horizon sharp as a curved blade held to the throat of sunset
shimmers like a thin line of bluegreen neon lip gloss

while everything else looks as though it’s reflected in a hubcap
at 200 miles per hour