Jeni Olin

A Good Year Down

New York will not accept me at this weight &
mothers of the disappeared don't come 'round
here anymore    I said you're housekeeping aren't you
with Lipton tea stains & the Establishment
seriously attracted He said  No
I'm turning down the beds   Now it's my turn
in bed with a beautiful American rage
like brunettes with nightsweats    My love
semi-precious & stoned
in the shoulder season we hold on
thought I am dismal & have no dope
Siphoned off behind pink Easter
I fake an optimism
just to breathe    Just thinking of him for once &
The Wandering Jew that ate my sunshine
but I know flowers like Zorro was my dad
those garlands of thin hissing lasers
So with the "sexy isotherms
of Semiotics" we meet again at the Kiev
to check chemistry    They bring the lights
down on those cherry pies & like cryogenics
it sort of works    This time my love
the salt doll of night egging us on
straight to the zeppelin mooring
with she-has-a-bit-of-the-neardamned-in-her-
like-when-a-cloud-dies    construed as
Well, alright, I've seen worse