the gertrude songs

dear gertrude and olive-stein. we met that night. at carnegie rains. in the midst of a cold manhattan evening. your lashes pale. you reverie of chariots. a wheel mockery of music. a trollop of sorts. your letter of dimes. you whispered to the moon. honeydew saccharin. take your tears. roll the edge. and bead a tale. of pepper-dust and sand. of the frivolity of play. the theater elite. the flautist behind. caressing your womb. the sweet vagina smell. you dizzy in the midst of the november rhymes. the poetic musk. the winds of death. you smile as you walk. and protrude your breasts. sequined and hemmed. you wink at me. and exit.

in my mind. i sang to you. the lullaby tales of the greek civil. the dome of trills. the whisk. and lust. and a poly-maze of the hebrews. on walls and walls of berliner tales. the mustard days of reign and reich. the gold of blood. tragedy of the beast. the identity wheel. a race of sorts. climb the shrine. of a fake divine. of a decorative. of a fake nurture of promise. the semblance of a blind sonnet. an empty verse that rhymes to cry. that swells and lisps. a saturday joy. a virgin whore. a spectacle of the polyandry foreplay. the gamut of the insensitive. i rage. and cringe. the gertrude songs. on parapet skins. who milked your soul? and fanned your lust? feral and coarse. with this balm of self-delusion. you sing to say. let us forget? the history of days? this self-deceit. this lie to please. to please the who? you sate your lies. and bite your lips. pretend the category of sensibility. but i have known your truths.