Sketches of a Dead Man Breakfasting with God -- Star Black

VI

Mod, its kachoos of sexy pants,
was a style. Now, it's slipped back a while
like specialized hairdos above loose teeth.
Harlequins peep
through Picasso's paint.
Did they read at home? Did they stay out late?
In back of the spine: another time,
but the eye cannot rotate.
It has been fixed in place by the fist
of The Great Spirit,
though the lynx is less with is
in the gnashed woods.
"Goodbye," Madonna sings, is most powerful.
Goodbye, ocelet. Goodbye, colocollo.