Two Tame Women in a Paris Apartment


I got the ambulance

driver to laugh as

I played my


ukulele, which


was on fire

from the car

accident.  Perhaps


he was just

being polite, but

I thought I

saw the


shimmer in

his eyes that

meant, “I would go

gay for this guy”, and


that made me smile

as the burning

sensation of the


ukulele set

my chest on

fire and all


the hairs went

singeing away.  I

bought a new tattoo

and discovered


mother spelled

with the uncharacteristic



Neal Cassady in a Farmhouse Basement


           my perfect

teeth and baby's


           breath are at

the edges of the market

concentrated into steel.  You


stood in the

door,                just



applying your

           head to the


frame, a licked hair



           the vanilla


spray hinges (


you're s'posed ta

           take them


off:       I TOLD ya to

).                     I wish


we'd just left

           it for

later     instead of


beating this lying

           in a bush.

Silent Film Script


The camera

wants to

sleep with you;


snapping to eat

itself.  In this

version, they'll


erase six pounds

before putting

it out for


the night among

the jasmine blossoms


and traffic.  A


perishable desire is

one in which the

bacteria dissolve


the lining that tames

the bile.  Inside the bus

station are older rats,


crumbling ashes for

survival.  All his

memories are in


his tastes; the

toaster wants an

even slice:  there's


no living with


teeth.  The little


white coats are

hung up

for the season,




my Latin class.

She bent over and

her underwear


begged forgiveness-

'America,' she proclaimed,

'is the world's clitoris:  a


nice spot in

a nice

place.'  Prayer


highlights the roots

a Christian hue, brought

on by an eclipse


the TV cameras

ignored.  She

blurred her nipple


out of focus

as the lens



over and shut

tight this

plastic mirage.


Amish Trivedi lives in Iowa City, Iowa where is applying to grad school for the third time.  His poems have been in the Backwards City Review, Can We Have Our Ball Back? and some are forth coming in Kulture Vulture.


[step back to issue 4]