(from) Better Than Sleep: A Yard Behind A Bar, Casablanca, Afternoon

Sometimes I sit here ithyphallic,
god of the beasts.
The flies attend
and tortoises when in the mood
bite.
A geranium they threw out blooms.
We commune.

If flies were bigger, didn’t wait –
like tortoises, say –
I’d be “food! I am food!”
white and gymnosophic.
Lord of the flies, a turbot head
begins to breed.

I smile. The geranium
nods.

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