Elbows on walnut wood
Sliding off the polish.
Eyes following the fingernail grain
To the sugar bowl
Where I leave my brain
To go banana's in demerara.
A clear black sphere
Ringed in gentle white china
Looks at itself
In my distortion.
And the ashtray
Smokes a tube of gunpowder
To the end.
(January 1980)
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