Noir Sonnet 1

WalMart fake bamboo, a

bottle of Slivovitz, also a

pile of old Power and Waterboard maps.

Then she walks in the door. She
 

had a set of Manchurian legs

like nothing I’d ever seen. She

looked at me in the eyes. She

told me her life story was being
 

filmed as a socio-prophylactic urban

legend by the FBI. She then

bummed God’s last cigarette, she

screwed a huge blacklight bulb into the sun,
 

wrote out a check for the finder’s fee,

and leapt up onto my desk to die.