come on in and take off yr skin and rattle around in yr bones # 7

if i imagined Joseph Burgess as a sonnet in Ted Berrigan’s “The Sonnets”

...it was too late, i had already begun

to stash 60-watt light bulbs up her skirt;

dear Harry, it’s 3:21 a.m., stop singing “Cocoanut Woman”

what we need is < Anne > to be a little less difficult.

it’s time to unholster these fairytales:

her shoulder blades of prom photos & butterfly knives;

her heart of backgammon moves in Braille

hidden in the dialogue of “Days of our Lives.”

but it’s hard when her disarmed smile is a woodcut

of a Joe Brainard ‘Nancy’ tip-toeing via

Tulsa nightlife: filth, gin, a slut;

it’s the Stations of the Cross as a palindrome’s trauma

that reconciles the stiletto afterglow of such hallowed, histrionic clouds.

& i’m awake b/c my heartbeat is too loud...

***

inaugural video of Justin, Etc. reading to things: 

 http://youtu.be/ntxKW_ZC9Hs