for Guillaume Apollinaire
(& Gertrude Stein)

The angel’s wings were Stretched
taut over Paris Her predilections one way
Poetry out the mouths of the Decadents came like a song
or a little romp in the park You imagine a short system
an adder’s udder of recollection Nothing New
in the short way of images Add up Ache for meal
some of us do You either
                                          ache or act or both
Life is not The grease-spoon of Medicine you
are caught up in If you’re not working In it
you’re working Against it It throws you Ache
Write Cast This syllogism on interest My money
is Empty grammar My money is your money
Honey Bunny