The Old Country Beckoning with Promises of Make-Up Sex

Jay Passer

mausoleums in lieu of

museums

to clumsily unearth, hunched over,

fingers blurred

(happy memories for future generations).

 

I sleep in blocks like children’s toys

pitch-black

recalled in Polaroids,

 

claiming immortality

I perform taxidermy

it takes an expert

to put her back together with any aplomb.

 

falsely I clamor through the ER

 

against history

against the ruling class (wringing tears

from pungent carcasses)

against the croupier’s halitosis

Windex on the rocks.

 

there’ll be other hunting accidents

 

crushed glass in the bed and steel

wool in the ears.