MIKE YOUNG

OFF TO THE DERBY WITH A CLEAN HEART

Will that work for you? If not,

jitterbug and more premium grade

exploitation is due soon. Check the

coupons. They solve a lot. Such as:

what are we going to exploit tonight?

I coupled with my apology. We sold

matching track suits to buy each other

matching track suits! Oh you! Zoom!

We’re off! My apology has a limp thanks

to Mega-Crucifix: Crucifix on Wheels.

Soon to be a major NASCAR sponsor.

But lo and behold—actually, no:

breach of privacy. Witnesses are failed

lovers. But the jury is still out on sarcastic

corpulence. Anyway, I will report the details

of our race to your favorite exploitation

coconut. You open it. Ain’t shit without

you! Oh wait: I feel a lucky w00t w00t

afoot. The coconut milk will immerse

your liver in that white lie of health.

Who talks all this shit about lies?

Lies are almost perfect vegetable milk

for when you are in a kind of secret

bad mood. Take a train to the derby.

Dance all sloppy in the club car. Now

we’ve come so far, no? I don’t know

where your tap shoes are. Did you—

everywhere? Really? Well. Wow.

 

 

EAT THIS CITY! EAT THIS CITY OH
 

No, not "home" — you haven't even bought

a real lamp. Friends you tell them all of

flesh and local compromise, this act is

act this, ignore that, silly rabbit:

you are not where I reach at in sleep.

I sign birthday cards on the night bus.

Sundays I jar the apple mash for Bea.

When you say always with the fucking

apples, you mean: "Bea? Listen. On you

he stews so much that he cuds this new

love. Chews later. Who does that shit!

Love has a half life and molders or

something." And so we go, each among the

other, a game of open hand demand, with

marbles suspected beneath the skin.

We suspect sex on a train in the woods.

Maybe a bad call, a drunk walk in April snow,

a boxing match to story up the scar you

won't. What want do you hoist and schlep

to town? What will you bet? This, he says,

and scoots across a tin of yellow mints.

Okay? We lift our cards, avoid the tell.

We try to guess whatever look we share.