Intersection of France
and a blue car, the slow state
carries no one. New houses
they are white, they are blue,
running feet, the proverb
announces: something regarding
houses and women. The colors
prove November.

 

*

 

Bow, big hair, big coat,
blue and red to prove
each other, gray and red
just the same. Lies in the
country, lies. Compromise
as the height of devotion
I won’t make anyone do that.

 

*

 

The little voice walks out
the door, red scarf goodbyes,
they take the train, these
dark-haired women, office
beautiful. Coats in the closet
and red scarves, she has a
secret apartment she hides
from her home in the suburbs.
Fancy Paris.

 

*

 

To not seem handy
on account of the ether,
blue red gray black, he’s
up to something. And
all the new towns that
happened in the ‘80’s, they
make me feel like dying, like
flying to France and dying.

 

*

 

We all need time alone, Louise.

 

*

 

Private, public reverie,
I wouldn’t live with anybody.
Having skipped loneliness
entirely, she solves her own she
paints the apartment blue gray.
Paris will do for a secret. When
cotton was the best shape, me too,
me too.

 

*

 

Red couch, the city
makes us put coats on,
take them off again. Coat
performance, wrapping paper,
surprise, the birthday, the
dress, strap-zippers.

 

*

 

Terribly planted, people
configuring life before another,
he tries to seduce her she
almost laughs it’s like she’s
laughing. All of us, beasts
some of the time.

 

*

 

One woman green, one is
white, party chit chat, what
they wear to demonstrate
a body. Another making lamps,
they have strong faces, I never
want to leave this party. And
when her boyfriend walks up to
her, she looks like death, the
face of death, big drapes
in a tall room in France.

 

*

 

From one to another
“Don’t stop her from
dancing!” Talk they knew
they’d have — if you’re
bored then go already —
the tiny lady crying,
a real treat, I’m not angry,
they always say that, but
then they’re always lying.

 

*

 

Everything ruined, the car,
a way home, women
discussing violence and
whether men want to love.
An ethics in the carried,
glass blue door, the handles,
he looks like a French vampire.

 

*

 

She knows it will make him
mad, she says it anyway.
I am painting my apartment
and I want to live there, I like
my furniture. To be like that,
sitting on a chair saying things,
blue red flowers that prove
two o’clock, I never married the
others but if you let me live alone
I could love you forever. A calm
absurd discussion like when a
boy and I used to compromise,
but that was a long time ago
and in the U.S.A.

 

*

 

December, a trunk, a painting.
How many rooms in a month,
gray and red, the bedded telephone,
repetition as our only friend.
Plans broken, make new plans.
A green book, acquaintances,
what to do with ourselves,
it was museums we wanted.

 

*

 

Breakfast with cassette tapes.

Begotten teapots.

Wow, he says in France.

 

*

 

January, a smaller room, her
friend immediately talking.
His eyes too big he speaks
of terrified fields, just
beautiful, she washes her
hands, momentary Poland,
she does not want to exit the
bathroom, the restaurant of
my sister’s 16th birthday.

I take off my socks at
this point in the movie.

 

*

 

The business of lamp making,
incredible bulbs the colors of
a game of colors. To hear and
not hear at the same time,
ahora mismo, I am not Spain.

A discussion of indefinite
articles, the train station
expressing new colors.

 

*

 

February dancing in a
small black dress.
The kitchen kissing
orange juice, some
friendships dwell on
planet danger. The
last train home
sounded hands. I can’t
tonight, call tomorrow.

 

*

 

Little apple, why are you
so green, tomorrow a message,
impatient machine.

The detectives we are, a way
to make shame garden
on the face, her friend
ridiculous: if I’d slept with you,
nonsense. People confusing
each other to no end.

 

*

 

Moon, a bike ride, coffee
then dancing and while
the moon is still they
sleep. She cannot sleep
— she takes her bag and
coat bravely — she leaves
the apartment. Plaid men
introduce the full moon.

 

*

 

Let’s just say it didn’t work,
the apartment arrangements.
She goes home to the country, on
the first train, her boyfriend not
there, where, blue door, did you
sleep last night. When she looks
out the windows it’s like looking
forever, not more just different.