the fox


well the fox went out on a cold night prayed to his shoe shine to give him light he saw he saw slapstick bursting the ballroom he saw his light, meantime realtime downtown they pull out the lamp shades venetian blind dates pure disguise he said he said "Rouletta, we're spending Christmas in Paradise"

wrappers, they laid out in boxes for headwear, boxes for chainstore goods, threadbare ring of boxes just like the necklace she had on, she said she said "our love is big as a bookstore, is better than no love, let's call a cab" extra extra in his view she dirtied her glass shoe with such a stab

he'd had the sudden awareness, pneumatic reminder, this thought before between bridge and tarmac, he wept to the chocolate grinder on Escher steps, big wheels big wheels "where is my camera? why do I keep appearing in people's songs? can we still be friends in the shrunken city, the wrinkled fruit

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