Phones cut. The gun jams.
|
Now he stands in his ten foot hall with three of 'em
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One bound to radiator also two wife and three his girlfriend
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The two latter scan his fifty-nine pence can of beer in the kitchen
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Behind ya he thinks
|
A mutual glance inherent from their milltown Persian Alabama
|
Atlanta Albania whatever
|
Their wisdom confirms friendship
|
Too dumb shit to do or know
|
I am hostage
|
Their young eyes say
|
Jet-lag
|
Wreck
|
Arrogant
|
Big lad
|
He brought home yank
|
Their triptych mentality explodes
|
He laughs
|
Poet reads out quatrain
|
|
-----------------
|
VISIT OF AN AMERICAN POET v 2
|
| The Fall |
