Robert E. Brown. He's Clean

(robbing the doppleganger)

They say-
he's clean
just like mama
or maybe papa
depending on your tilting bent.
He's smooth.
I liked him cause
he slides
unfamiliar
righteously Blind
sick toothed
mouse Trapped.
His knuckles shine like chrome on a hot rod
just waiting to be shifted to another day,
a twisted point of view.
Like a fouled cat turned out on the street,
our boy learned to hate well.
After all, what did he have left?
A shining sense of tear and wear fashion.
A sonombulist's Reason.
The company of spent men and unfamiliar Cooze.
A curse giving us Something to strive for,
to die for
to wrap our Little girls in news paper and cry for.
Either way he's smooth.
Yeah he's the kind.
Bathed in his Porno satan giggle.
Attending his toilet bowl mass.
Breaching the anti-etiquette.
Sleep crusty hungry.
Dirty jeans and lactate.
Unaware of this theft,
and just part of the search for some kind of brutal salvation
that has always left me wondering.


My Company