Jeni Olin
BLUE COLLAR HOLIDAY


Warner Bros. Newest Thriller "Valentine"

Anything I do will be an abuse of somebody's aesthetics.
I index moccassins on the web.
I used to translate Xenophon during the typhoons
But now I live in "far-off" Chelsea where my god forsakes me
Several times a day. They say social anxiety can hurt careers
Though mostly I am suffering from intestinal complaint, ghetto-bred
Inertia. "From the dark bastions of the UN, a sick flush."
I read it in the papers, The New York Times.
I fortify myself, douse my sushi with "liquid aminos" spray,
Fly Lufthansa. And you're flying past in an Adirondack chair
With soiled pubes & argon lighting -- a fluid mai tai
Coursing through this land of nausea & bric-a-brac.
Anglican & very high I am, the consort of a genuine Black Forest
Paterfamilias -- the Bavarian Lift face & throat creme
Splashed down in spermy smears, peals
Of screaming laughter as an orchestra dressed in skivvies
Accompanied a chorus of yodelling Alpine maidens...
Skit night at Christine's & everything seemed a waitress
In the throes of athletic love-making or centennial
Valkyrie slumbers with you, indecently pink
& tan like swatches or rarefied turkey burger
& me shrinking beside you & your Nivea-slick skin
"Really & truly I don't care what you do with me."
So I put on my little Lederhosen & started to walk.




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