Sober Boat

I.
Skin from alligator lizards in the air.

“None of these yellow jackets fits me,”
The apple core whines.

« Putain mais ton cul ne m'intéresse pas. »

He sloughs off his outgrown
Acolyte vestments.

The candor of mongoloid bleachers.

“Give them an extra spin cycle on the fire escape.”

II.
Rain will humdrum the nunnery;
Sloopy will hitch a piggyback ride
On a sailboat.

As I plummet toward nirvana
She kills herself by guzzling
A bottle of sunspot remover.

The transient asps of recalcitrance
Blued Hong Kong.

III.
“Hey buddy, got a match?”

Watching, with eyelids ajar, chthonian
cormorants, pelicans, and seagulls.

She emerges from the labyrinth
To find herself in the Elysian Fields.

Windshield-wipers bereaved
My eyes of their tittles.

“Yeah, my ass and your face.”

IV.
In Reykjavik Snively
Heard a disembodied voice.

It had an amber timbre.

The Slough of Hope congealing
Into pancake ice on the Black Sea.

A quantum jump to a parallel universe,
Where your doppelganger is reflecting
On his otherness as a praying mantis.

The shock corridor of a licorice stick.