cobalt

That savage
is staring at me, but
CANNOT BE BUT INTO SPACE
the hairy fiend with the baseball cap, he
is staring at me, but he
CANNOT BE BUT INTO SPACE
and that old man with stringy hair
and no teeth, rambling past me
CANNOT BE BUT INTO SPACE
he also, he is my executioner.

THE PERSONA CAN BE KILLED. WATCH.
In the last few minutes,
the waitress crumbles above me, she is old,
the bags are everywhere, she
has been staring for years and years, she
CANNOT BE BUT INTO SPACE.
She, staring at me. Hascue eating here, twenty years past
probably interacting with this waitress.

AS IF SPECULATION COULD RESURRECT THE DEAD
WHILE LOCATING MY GRANDFATHER IN A PAST -
a younger girl, she must be about my age, puts grainy silverware

over the table (she
is staring at me, she is drawling, are you just getting
desserts?

IDENTIFIED BY FRAGMENTS IN TIME?
She removes them, I am getting shaky here,

AS IF THE PRESENCE WERE BEING ACCUSED
TO ASSOCIATE WOMEN WITH DOLLS, WITH ANCESTORS,
LOOK AT THE GIRL WHO JUST CAME IN.
THE STRAP OF HER BRA AND HER SHOULDERLESS SHIRT, THE
BATTERED SANDALS, THE MINISKIRT, THE HIGH HARD HAIR, MY
GOD, THE NAILS

INCHES LONG, CURLING FIENDISHLY,

SHE TAPS HER CIGARETTE, HER FAMILY IS DESTROYED.
I could have designed her myself. HER FACE
WEARS THE ZOMBIE STARE OF A BARBI DOLL.

HER EYES ARE NOT MOVING, SOMEBODY TAKES HERE TO DARK
BACKSEATS, HE BETTER BE CAREFUL OF THOSE NAILS.