In Madrid

When the Lord god went belly-up, out of business,

little brats went shin-kicking through the streets of Pamplona.

The watchmaker closed up shop to peel wallpaper off the Vatican.

Nietzsche was in my dream too, in a tedious spat

with Alma Mahler: the syphilis was invisible, so he thought

These are my thoughts. Sunny, a hundred degrees. Frozen daiquiris.

I wasn’t going to let any sordid affair spill my happiness.

Until the Romanian chipped away at the Pietà.

He was driven, bipolar, mood disordered:

at least they could name him this. As for the dark stuff,

blank page after blank page, motives sail by

like an afternoon cloudburst, and I don’t want to belabor

the matador, how speared he was, or how she came to me

in a black dress out of Manet and took me in her mouth,

and I’m whispering Dear god, what happened

to my reverence for clarity and a few simple rules of behavior?

Don’t make me feel we’re all drives and cracked hardware

wired wrong: I want to blame someone, I want to

paint over the underground where I’m waiting at 3 A.M.

for the train, and yes, I’m sure I’m being followed.