“the mind’s eye diner” from HIS&HERS
We’ll take the room where seesaw blood
tips in its channels. In the morning
the words switch mouths with ease.
I guess we dreamed a similar slide
succession in our prototype viewfinders.
In the sun the eye spreads asphalt
and currently in my boyhood
a Russian waitress won’t tell me her secrets.
She is looking right through me at fault
lines apparently. I wanted to sleep with her
and learn things like did the Tsars
ever get cold and need another blanket.
At the thoroughfare motel, chilled mattresses
and ice machines breathing. In Russia
the untroubled sleep of the Tsars.