Saint Paul, 28 September 2003
In a trailer park off the Paris 286 loop
Laid bare by a Texas twister your
Self-portrait hangs cocked above the
Broken dishes of wayward cowgirls
Silvery punctuation of betrayal
Your navel inclined in the moiré
Of an October turned cold
I posed you for that portrait like
Window shades pour over indiscretion
And postcards fade to regret
Still, like the magician’s sidekick
You levitate above the rubble