ugly colored hotel bedspreads

upright walkers are computer keyboard characters

once a week bus money

they all

they so much all

a day and a half is a long way from shore

is an good itch inside your ear

what she wore to leave your apartment

a smell contained in her blue collared shirt

you put your face in like a group of crowded things

a murmur of many

cloth next to her chest a sleepy phone call

late afternoon skin

her pretend

I’ve got some work to do

jeans coming off her waist

one-handed horizontal maneuvers

rush to a rush

another blue breath in

the druggy odor still there

two or three nights on

the first republic bank

red 76 gas station ball

dodger stadium

vin scully summer on the radio

that view seemed a view of everything

her clothes pushing to the floor

going with her own sideways look

owner of a low-cut cleavage resignation

metal hanger wrist wrap

here, put your hand in my side

hair down, profile collide

sometimes she’d move it away

sometimes you would

casual flip measures an eye color avenue

a lack of sleep since the incisions of 1985

another off-kilter groove between legs