Purity does not appeal to me. Not the sound
                Of a walking stick nor rarified sugar nor coin.
                OE in Americanized German is pronounced
                Like a long A. I don’t listen to Phillip Glass
                But his music makes the best soundtracks.
                From the 52nd floor, the sacred heart
                Due north, the catacombs far behind, an event
                Horizon has been passed, memory of a youth
                Under a black light, paging through a Penthouse,
                Stereo speakers hanging from the ceiling. So much
                Based on Bekenstein’s assumption about entropy,
                And I give in and am lost to this energy.
                Everything Parisian, forevermore erotic,
                Even now I remain dazzled at my body’s ability
                To surge and discharge its own bioluminescence.
                How can I feel this way in the wake, the wake?


Copyright © David Koehn, 2005. All Rights Reserved.