For Socrates

Hey Sinatra eyes
Persian fur, Siamese scream
that slow strut; The Walk
or sometimes stalk
to prostrate yourself in the nearest sunbeam
perform lick and stroke ballet
Then look like Buddha as you fall asleep.

Later,
I find you on my bed
passed out,
drooling
in the dead bug position,
there's the truth.
Graceful you.


Celeste Côté
February 2002

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