Scene B

I’ve got a slow drawl
for a love sprawled
draped across beds
spread across drapes
it’s not a neck
without a nape:
the nightmares have come again,
you see, we’ve all got our sins.
picked up in back alley…
relationship bins –
the kind we roll down hills as kids,
the kind that let sparks fly
riding inside, upside,
downtown,
rolling rolling round frown.
dip around a corner for a corner fuck,
slip inside for some peking duck;
eatin’ Chinese till we can’t see
the hatred that we feel crawling on our skin:
these faces with the evil grins,
– they’re usually cops.