PERHAPS YOU SEE WHERE I AM HEADING
1
They say poetry is dead. Or that
it might still live, but only
for insiders. Like the vintage
Corvette owners who work only
on each others’ old Corvettes.
I say maybe, thumbing through my
Hasselhoff Dossier. This further
infuriates. The hoods are always
blue or silver. Or red. Or black
with silver stripes. Or tan.