By Misti Velvet Rainwater
Date: 21 April 1998

night genius

I dabble in days that have no meaning
   each one the same
lukewarm bland unappetizing creamed corn
    congealed in a can
  days that settle in my stomach
     a greasy lump
    I may vomit
until i have no days left
  I would like to be left
 with only the nights
 twilight time is subject
  to much magic
old habits die hard
  in bars and clubs that explode
  with frantic energy
    sensual strangeness
 there is nothing bland about a strange hand
 creeping with purpose up the thigh
    while ice cubes are sucked and then slipped
  down the front of my dress