Friday, March 12, 2010

is a train

 The hand hovers close to the cheek and the checkers box looks open. Close the door open the brief hush to its magnet pose majestic to its glass door and pour over the croup. She's left the place Saunters round as they say boy gaited and her hair . And this way she's born again to new sites and old.  

If there's repetition its only the fault of love. At L's restaurant the propeirtor an Asian lady of heady dispositions bears the weight of the world on her shoulders. That have sloped missing love's caress. And the restuaanr down west has a Mama waitress taking care of the customer's Oedipal tenor . __ Come to me baby Mama, I will suck dry your dada  ~ add Irish brogue blur ____ Dial the wrong number and you get righto Mama and her harbinger needs. Nereids and rough bleeding of the solar cortex. I have been everyone but you . Then I am the mist at the door crushing the smoke from the air.

So Mona Sow Mona finds a home everyplace she go.