brazil (july 08)

"Slipping down the streets of the city"
symmetry of the broad apartment block with

new-groomed lawns and bachelorette aspirations
Brazilian-wax'd sky

& Alaric rides in from the suburbs, singing
"if you loved me, loved me, love, why did you ever leave me girl?"

"everyone knows it's windy", rip
you wouldn't understand with your limited grasp of psychology

With you it's all a mythical drippy happy hour
kibble on the beach & poetic strangulation

Hello, I've explained it to you & I won't again
Alaric goes home with his beard sweeping the sand

he's so ashamed and confused
and partial to the pancakes of his pappy

Evidence at this point fades, like a stain with repeated flushing
but I believe he became a reviewer for the New York Times