WE LIKE YOUR PANTS
Wasn't the terrier
Seized upon to accuse me
It is pointless for him
To sail on the boat of glissando carousels
I intend to wake up
In circles
The roof of the auditorium
Zigzags and if I hear a timpani
Wearing my leather cheetah jacket
It is a portrait
Resembled sumo wrestlers
As I roam through
canyons filled with centipedes
Getting nipped and laughing
And discussing it all over the phone
I am the first to find
Ivory statues of shovel-nosed sharks
On the motorway
Rattled as a car flew past
Exultant
As only a mechanical fountain could be
And here you are
Eating a few potato chips
And pie
I had no opinion on
The boxing match
The silver mascara
I'm a mess
Joseph Bienvenu
BOY WITH A HAT
Behind the billboard advertisements,
atop some love hotel,
It is not you
eyeing a piece of cheese labeled "cheese."
There is nothing about Japan I dislike at all,
some bluish objects,
a cactus by the window.
I remember
too large a bite of steak,
the apparition of a little girl.
Down to the forgotten reservoir
filled with magic fish.
We can have a barbecue.
When the lights are on
in the room at night,
ice cream by a fountain.
Was that you
asleep upon the boat,
Striding among the broken walls?
The garden is full
with gravel and moss,
a lotus pond, a contorted tree.
We can find some parakeets.
We can pretend we're walking home.
Joseph Bienvenu
