In Toto

"In Toto" is an abecedarian that uses the most bizarre words I could find in the dictionary. Basically the lines free-associate based on the word before it however a story emerge along the way and I couldn't help following through with it. It's a bit sexy and silly.
In Toto
Neil de la Flor | contributor's notes

Armistice:	I paid for the canopy. You paid for the rubberized pizza.
Baseline:	Fecund and flippant for sonar, my convalescent lips laced you.
Casual:	in salamander chaps.
Darling:	It was normal man whooping.
Eager:	Before the knot was tied the ante war chest broke. (Clack-clack.) Soon you spooned for bees for alphabets and even commas for retirement.
Fragile X:	It's hellish, you said.
Gullible:	I asked: Like anesthesia?
How:	You asked: Where is our canopy?
Isotope:	After many dinners in solitary rooms we agreed.
Je ne sais quoi:	Hoop earrings.
Kinky:	I said: You're a yurt.
Logogriph:	Each new day planned another. It was always a cool evening, bones brittle as toothpicks.
Monster Mash:	I wore camouflage knickers. You grew rubus parviflorus in front of mirrors.
Neither:	[Remembering] we broke into the lookout tower in South Point Park not to watch the lights of the cruise ships pass in the night.
Ooops:	It's like fucking glue, you said.
Party Pooper:	Are you listening? I'm speaking to you. It's me beneath your shoe. This event will end with one of us on his knees and the other one curtsying.
Quickly:	You said: Snap my bones.
Rorschach test:	If you were me and I were you, then what are we in retrospect?
Swedish Massage:	Afraid I'll die in a big flambé.
Touching:	You said: Remember the night we couldn't celebrate my birthday on the beach in the rain with a number four from Pizza Rustica because our makeshift canopy failed in the rain as we danced we tried to protect the tiny light from the ohsocold wind but we couldn't stop leaning into each other.
Utopianism:	Our ballroom.
Vitelline:	Forming concentric relationships.
Wanton:	We always applied lipstick one right after the other.
Xanadu:	You always hated conceptual art, I said.
Zenith:	With a common axis.

T. Williams Talks To Birds...

This poem was first published in 42opus.com. I wrote it after reading the introduction to Tenesseee William's play Streetcar Named Desire. I read something about a purses or thought I did. This is one of those poems you read in the morning and say, 'what the hell happened here!'


T. Williams Talks To Birds or I'm Talking To Birds
Neil de la Flor | contributor's notes


Tennessee Williams once visited Manhattan where he celebrated the Broadway success of A Streetcar Named Desire with a leather purse. She called him, 'Len.' That night, Len and the purse sent cocktails to hookers on 42nd street. Girls sipped so-called dirty martinis with white rubber gloves. For the clients' pleasure they sipped quickly.

Quietly, the other day, I found an ad in the Miami Herald that read, Tennessee look alike seeks farm hand for companionship. I left a message wondering if he looked like the State or the playwright, never mind the possibility that Tennessee could be a woman, or a transvestite looking for human liver. Nevertheless, the impossible news headline was true—Dog caught walking owner off bridge. Plummets to death, owner not dog.

Father John once said he got cold spells when he entered the church, or something like that. I told him to wear mittens.

Mittens, he said. Are for boys!
Father, I said. You are a boy.

A glass menagerie, glass menagerie, menagerie of steel, stainless steel, I've stolen my lines from the great Herodotus, or Hercules, I can't remember which was Assyrian. Istanbul is a city with great glass walls, erected with the sweat of tigers, lions, and bears. The mighty walls, like skin of cats, are see through. I see through, you see through. I can't see through, you can't see through. I am done with this cat business, the 9 lives of Nineveh, or 9 Visigoths, or Vishnu nude bathing on porcelain counter tops with margaritas in both hands.

A list will be my final attempt: a horn, clobbered, musk, alabaster, gloat, Los Alamos, credenza, last night, a dry hump, a parakeet.

When the Edict of Nantes was declared null and void girls bought hot pink lipstick. Abolition is freedom if you can't read. Reading is ______! But only if you close your eyes when you do it.

Madness, you say. Madness, I say. Say, do you understand the function of that squiggly line in calculus? The one that looks like it wants to be infinity. That's the function of madness.