Oceanaire (Seafood) Restaurant,
Minneapolis, July 2, 2000

     Postmidsummer, long evening
seeing through a poisoned brain:
“I drink only black coffee.”

Odysseus said it, all
his tools he wrote
for himself, listening
to Sirens’ songs.

Writer’s mind, drunkard’s mind.
Buzzing around, no center.

Why not scheduled,
controlled experience
of “mile high”?

“Money doesn’t get cold.”
(Latinos in St. Paul restroom)

“liberate the fish!”
(toilet imagining)
toilet is tiled and clean
sloppy and writing

outside of perception,
this real mind
at dusk, writing all down

stare of the invalid eye-beam,
perception of the REAL