She’s a tease,
tears her skirts off
one by one.
Really?
Drops her petals
as if she could always
make more.
It’s tiresome.
We know
what she looks like
naked.
On a cold night,
we can see forever.
-Rae Armantrout
Rich men buy art
Poor men, crack
And I’m addicted to
Star-light
mist doesn’t fall
straight down
it lingers in the empty air,
floating about the
late evening when
everything else has
gone to sleep or
paired off to
kiss repeatedly
