Ear infections of a Maid’s Lover not revealed
By: Domenic Maltempi
Bribed guests are lost on an
Unplanned portion of the mansions 4th floor
Jesus they got a Braque hanging Charlotte!
A rich semi-permanent guest writes sardonic
chestnuts on mortality in a gutter hand that’s eye squealing beautiful
I saw them peeing last night stuffed underneath show soap carved into the figures of plumpy Ingres subjects
in a wave of insomnia
that takes
decayed masterpieces for two instruments
wheeling about each other in undrugged felicity
crumpling the spare light footed sonority into bitable squares of speedy vomit
Everyone adores Chip (my daughter’s imaginary friend)
Sometimes he’s seven years old
sometimes he is married
They always hold hands
He is in all the pictures she makes
I wouldn’t mind meeting him accidentally driving east
The worse miles behind some sort of me-appendage
Downstairs, I have just been taught how to peel vegetables
I probably will never see again
My instructor is a rat race hater commuter
On the weekend he waits on lines dreaming of driving faster
Or wondering what to do with voluminous amounts of lemon zest
I thought there were more guests arriving
They did not show
Except for that woman with perfervid force leaping in face lines
Stout with too many false detonations
on the prepared diner table
The one that kills the imaginary deer over and over again
No matter what she does to advance warning
Same road, only one
Damn the picaresque, it is vulgar,
but it is the people you meet on these dumb ass roads
(spit shine some interloping trumpeter’s shoes!)
Much like Lynch’s Straight Story maddened
Middle-Ager
I have to ride on this road!
I keep killing them