Kim Wyatt Three Poems A Dollar Whipping a trail of blood White-collar slavery Strikes at the heart Stroke for stroke Blow after blow Chained Shackled To digital boxes Freeways Fast cars Target sales Cable TV Bacon cheeseburgers Eating our ozone for lunch Searing the surface of earth Following all the wrong gods home Turning our hearts into cellulite plastic dildos Our fate laying in the flicker of a moth's wing And a dollar given in love Sand Shark A sand shark rode along side a dusty Geo Winked Taking flight down Santa Monica Blvd. Past Toys R Us heading towards the 10 freeway The sea had rolled up and gone south The shark did a double take Slid though the slime Past pampers, plastic water bottles Abandoned condoms In the orange glow of the western setting sun Over a smog choked Pacific sea I passed them Brown sludge oozing between my toes Bacteria crawling up my thighs Feeding on their new host Refuse streaming through the streets Draining into Santa Monica bay Raw sewage, human feces Painting the ocean floor With its perfume Rolling up my LA blue jeans Dancing under the pulsating street lamps Watching florescent green -blue algae Soaked waves curl on to the sand As the apocalypse crawled ashore Delusional "I go the way fate has pointed me as assuredly as a man walking in his sleep." I quoted Hitler Reading it twice He stood there counting Rearranging Little silver elephants on the porch shelf Didn't reply It wasn't digital zero, one, two or three Couldn't penetrate the fire wall Of his rationality Gone mad Inside the delusional palace Of green house masses Commuting to man digital gadgets Magicians orchestrating wars Science ordering the stars Finally sitting With his pink baseball cap on backwards Next to me on an old faded blue couch Under the chipped white painted lattice Of an old Venice wood framed house Two yellow pills and a quarter For company I read to him in broken Spanish Sunday afternoon heat beating down Just a kiss of a breeze The hose lay there Grass brown