borrowed torn paper everywhere,

bats and Barrio Libre alleycats

devouring unclaimed Apache blood

scattered napkins littered with laundry lists

filled with meaningless biblical quotations

paraphrased by Custer-nosed beneficiaries

this is a skin exchange nightclub talent show

where remarks get diagnosed by homeless assassins,

reviewing the same tired overdressed pickups,

consulting the same fractured prisms,

discarding any sustenance through weary windows

borrowed torn paper nowhere,

stitched together horns bleating into spaceless piggyboxes

exploding balloon mirages,

as dandruff throwing children remark to one another:

“audiences should lighten up,

quit acting like skinless headshrinkers”

no backporch here on Cushing St.

no dogbreak city here in Tucson.

mostly a bunch of shoddy white insurance guys

posing as blind coyotes

Tucson, 1988