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Ecstasy

Those
Knowing
New York
Kids wait
Beside
The red-neon
GIANT
Supermarket
Sign,
Illuminating
Peppermint
Joints,
Emerald smell
Contrasting
With the
Sparkling
Orange/yellow
Of
Plastic corona'd
Lighters,
Bleeding black
Stagnant sweetness,
Their
Alien
Solace,
Voices
Washing
Into the
Dumb flame
Unfamiliar,
Noiseless,
Sweet.

4th floor
Apt above
Them,
We lay
Sullenly on
A
Department store
Air mattress,
The grocery's
Neon clarifying
Your
Saucer-nippled
Breasts,
Syrupy
Cinnamon'ing
Ashen
Crane of your back,
In syncopated
Flashes,
Dallying,
Riveting atop
Me,
Upturned
Commas
Of red-drenched hair,
You and I,
Bleeding
Easternly
Into each other,
Below
A
Dusty sad
Lightbulb,
Alone,
Inelegant,
Like the
Shadeless
Lamps
Of old
Degenerate
Cheapo-novels,
The
Empty
Closets
With
Silvery
Hangers
Dangling vacant,
Slightly
Bent,
Your delicate
Female
Vibrato
Weeping
Beneath
The
Raspberry
Glaze
Of
Sunup
Street

Those
Knowing
New
York
Kids
Have flicked
Their
Smoky-eyed
Salvations
Into
The
Deep blue
Concrete
Mouth of the
Gutter
And pounded
Home,
Cutting
Over
The
Spiderweb-threaded
Rails
Of
Rusty
Eastern
Highway
Bridges

In the
Wilting
Cherry'd
Blush
Of neon
I'll
Cheek
The
Chalky
Soft
Of your
Chest,

Making
A
Memory
To
Kill
Me
Later

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