at sally’s
sylvia del rio is stacked
& sits at the circular bar
in her long black spaghetti
strap dress, long bleached auburn
hair, cats-eye mascara, wide
& gorgeous mouth: a whiff of
drive-you-wild in-your-face
perfume & performance: tossing
her head, shrugging a shoulder,
arm on my arm, leg on my leg:
ava gardner, sylvana mangano, raquel
welchoverblown & hot: i’m a pre-op
transexual (she writes in my book)
a she-male is someone
that looks like a woman
but rally a fagit
(transvestite spelled travestie)—someone
who is a hard hard
man who fantasize at
being a woman
(pre-op transexual):
someone before she chop off
her Dick
in july she broke up with the boyfriend:
he doesn’t
pay homage
anymore—i’m a queen—he’s a liar—getting fat
missing a tooth—lazy—
what wld make you happy?
stiletto dropping a dime, hard as nail
hitting bulls-eye she says:
someone to share my life,
appreciate me—if
you can’t do
that—
yr a piece of shit—
give me
my trophies
you’re out—
as i go she tells me her phone number:
you can suck
my dick
anytime—
round & full & soft moon,
ny times clock reads 6:34,
very warm for january