sad eyed harlequins flipflop
thru dirty alleys of paris
at four a.m. as picasso gets up
to put out the cat
he isn't wearing a shirt the moon is humming in a pool
of pissed flower water
&a taxi is headed home for a pat
on the fender
pablo pauses at his doorway
considers the shifting planes of stairs
only briefly
to inspire more legend
a warm bed awaits
1988 lawrence ks.
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