Wednesday, May 31, 2006

1953

The marine sets up a truth table
Outside my office door

It is fleet week and
He wishes to become a lawyer

There is a disconnect
Between the need aggression

And the interpretation of dreams
Hunger is a waking state

The hologram of sexuality
The hey-baby of complacency

The machine asks the opinion
Of everyone with a child

In every case the child
Turns and pulls on a shirt