Wednesday, October 23, 2013

POSTMODERN CAFE

The overt way light flirts
with gold-
filigreed 
glass plates—behind which such 

tall 
and red
and white-
dappled parfaits and glossy butteryellow

wedges over-
crowded with dizzy
-ing 
spools of burnt-up meringue 

are twirling 
and twirling
on chilly silver trays—is particularly

discourteous!—just

typed-
out in blank space like this.

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