I've never pictured her five steps from a one night stand.
She's more like three steps from a clandestine nirvana
that none of us know about.
I do know that in broad light, she attends dance parties
with bum writers who, sometimes get stoned when they
She tells me: Write a poem about me; I'm a cowboy spirit,
you know." She's a gaucho all right, but not one from the
pampas. I tell her: "And I say you're a 2nd French girl."
I've seen her body levitate without warning.
I know that her brilliant and off putting feet move to
their own perverse beat.