PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Friday, September 9, 2016

Confessing My Tattoo

At sundown the Hollywood
sign sinks beneath the
weight of pale pink angels who
talk out the side of their mouths
& carry guitars zipped up in body bags

I'd like to trade in those scrap iron halos
for a primer gray
belch-fire El Camino
then gun the engine while chasing down
the starlet who wears crooked shoes

I'm burning out the clutch
& she's got black silk eyes