
Hopeless, Fearless Hearts (Poem 808)
#808 Fearless_Hopeless_Hearts “Tell me storytime!” She curls up on me_her ethonol engine exausted. I want to fly us_so far away: This cab is now a magic carpet for a story cabaret. Using-a-punchdrunk-kitten in the back seat of a Breuklyn-southbound-gypsy as my muse. One doesn’t choose, _the muse they use. Or when. There were worse assignments. Given to more cowardly men! And my constitution is and always will be_a wide canvas for futurist painting_ My-heart-when-fainting_ Is grinding, then breaking it_causes Brighton to flood and post Haitian earthshaking: My soul is for barter_sign the dotted line, I’m a phantasm now-shaking … Continue reading Hopeless, Fearless Hearts (Poem 808)