we suck romance out of
a bottle like it is the best soda pop
ever and only sold chilled
from a faceless man
with a dull metallic
cart and a sign that shouts
here today, gone tomorrow.

half a dozen empty bottles
later, we toss them into a Hefty
bag, place them out on the curb
and hide behind closed
curtains, waiting to see who
would come to recycle them
.
20080302:0143

out in the more industrial parts
of bushwick, just when you think
no one is watching, someone can
creak half a wall of window open
from up in his concrete
loft and hit you with a balloon
filled with hot
racial molecules
not even remotely resembling
the elements in your hair
but then again
it is always easier
to label a person
when there is a safe stretch of
blindness in between
.
20080302:0220
y