today’s zodiac will not tell me what to do
at dinner she would not tell me her name
we are in a truck not mine making love
our bodies slick cramped ecstatic
the people at the party are drinking heavily
I don’t know where I am and want a drink
there are several bottles of champagne
but only one unbroken glass on the table
Richard is cleaning up something slimy
a man I don’t know pours a drink
he spills it then sings apologetically
about something disconnected and green
I’m lost and wander through European streets
bent back upon themselves and crowded
an artist has welded my truck to another
fused like Dr. Doolittle’s push me-pull you
the city tangles within itself like snakes fucking
the phone keeps ringing but it’s not mine
the fax machine will not work but still noisy
I start to wake as a nude woman approaches
she smiles falling into my arms laughing
her breasts soft and warm on my skin
laughter constellates throughout us
(July 11, 2015)
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