4.14.95 a cup face remembered
Mark Sonnenfeld
I think of hollywood
as the front gate meeting
the classified blue sky
that attitude of hi bob
drives the midas way
with scanners to fires thinking
about tires working I knock
past doors of doctor’s houses are
the best looking just
every now and then under a cloud
lying on the floor years a half ago
the living room of
my confused worth
stealing methodically to the steering wheel rather
keenly the keys down there was
not my mind
suddenly it gets sunny against the door
if as a bookcase on the paneling reasoning
a tone like on the radio
remembering the beatles make perfect sense.
