Poem # 10

for Hélène Rytmann


It takes it  out on me,  attaches  jingle bells  round my neck.  As it kills,

Canada  announces  the obsolescence of the  penny from

the coinage  system. As it kills,  what will it  give me  for my

thoughts. Great head  rolling in the dust while I  have yet to  think freely.  I lay

before it on  my back.  As it kills,  proof of the  pudding is  in the  

eating! So  what! Like ideology, I am aware.  It strikes  me with its  

bow, for it  forgot  its whip  in the  MPV.  Don’t I

hate when it  happens.  As it kills,  I wait  for the porntunity

to relate  to it  while kept at  arms length.  V-shaped, cram techniques.

As it kills,  fix it  dear Henry.  As it kills,  fix it,  dear Henry.

Recognize it as  merely a  bigger cat.  Gives me what  I like,

as it kills,  it wants  to fuck me  hard on the  sink. Uh-huh Henry.