A Toe Dipped In the Stream of Self-Consciousness

malones moll packs a pistol

bristol fashion in her bra

far from decorous

in the porous night

where the dreams fall through

into sleepdistorted screenplays

for blackandwhite noiry tales

about lost shoes and spun gold

and hairladders to the moonandsixpence

happy ever afters that are no ones

just desserts

read the books

        and feel the width

              of all  the quality

                   streets fair vanity

                        in costume drama

                            schooled tomfoolery

these are snapshotgunwedded

infelicities written offhand backhand

unplanned or wanted or wonted

read it and sleep safe from succubi

or other muselike spirits
 

this is not art or poetry