Score for a Spectacular
The peeping Toms advance onto their balconies.
Mosquitoes rise, Lolitas run baths.
I was a girl among girls in the locker room.
Blonde legs. Blonde books. Lore said:
We took turns with our eyes to a rifle scope.
A champion undressed, we were waiting.
His pocked back in the crosshairs.
Look in your compact for the transit of Venus.
It was a chink in the wall:
The royal wedding The assassination The half-time show
flickering into our living rooms.
E coli observed through a keyhole.
One hundred thirty thousand pounds ground beef
reloaded into trucks. Its silence and heft
conveyed like sleeping children down the turnpike.
The mayor attends the symphony wearing night-vision goggles
while the sitter keeps a finger-frame on the crib.
Kettledrums heroic in green.
Every time I pick up my opera glasses the towers are mid-collapse.
On my seaside vacation, they are burning again
in the keel of a glass-bottom boat. My face and the minnows
alight, your open mouth like an oil slick. You are beautiful
when considered in terms of guns versus butter. I love you when
(and only when) you are the single eye of the panopticon
and I am the six thousand prisoners.
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