My Salty Cat

The Ground Plan

the ground plan is obvious
here are eyes
there exit signs
deep confusion on the lower floors
galleries and such
fiends and fangs and blowtorch touches
gothic purple slang
flesh hangs
into pots of glue
Egypt’s all the rage

next
draped in parachutes
I Dream of Genie tents
with waiters
silver service trays
eunuchs vexed with gold leaf

below
Time’s Square and all
hobble up the curb
on ball joint busted
amputated feet
all fours
diabetes abscess bleeding ulcers
this half of the pack
shuffled in with that
foghorn lights Pa-
paya King hot dogs

in between
carpeted dividers
long walks muffled
by fibres coarse
reflective tensile
in the tinted
hallway light
a soft stockade
for bumping rumps

calloused
worn bald to the bone
tail swats flies and twitches
before snuffing and stamping
secretarial hoof
executive haunch
middle managerial udder
weepy barnyard eyes

scales are scaled up the petrified penis
here hoists a rope
there the greased runners go
block and tackle of old vadge
precarious scaffold
hand winched plywood
sway
while squeegee
fist
bucket
suds
and eyeballs peer
into foxholes

the wide
inverted V
tastes hot
he says
my salty cat