Tedious work.

Burke left at Gate 31, Newark to Singapore,
nicorette in shirt pocket, kissing Molly goodbye,
China already there:
gunpowder, printing press, suicide.
 

 Offensive slang.

A tee-shirt Burke saw:
SINGAPORE - A FINE

CITY in caps, a dozen crimes
listed on back - spitting gum,

urinating in an elevator,
a stick figure to depict

each one:
fucking up the ass

got life, weed and horse
got death. 


 A variation.

One-piece, black, strap over each shoulder,
wet pot belly pulled from the whirlpool:
leg lifted over ceramic edge, foot propped
on the first of three steps going down.
Burke's long gone, I watched Molly get out,
towel wrapped around waist, fingernail in mouth,
hair bound tight with rubber band.

 
 A cigarette.

four and twenty strands of blonde,
long, drenched and frayed at the end,
her eyes fixed hard on smoke
drawn from a white fag.