Perfume River

Oh, what flesh of tuned fragrance
better than new vinyl car seats
better than Aqua Velva or Old Spice

Chemical plants, excrete a palpable reek
animals decay in every gutter

Can you believe it?

The Blast Furnace, [what feminine kiss
lighter than her's in this blue collar bar?]
where men come on Fridays with paychecks

Hard-ons, muscle-cars, bowling-balls
did you see Deer Hunter?
(then you know what I'm talking about)

Where is this scent coming from?

I follow her tears out the back door
up muddy side streets with all Pittsburgh's
iron smoke rolling into lead bellied clouds

To the trailer where she waits
surrounded by knick-knacks
neatly arranged

And the FM station playing

And honey, I miss you          And I'm bein' good
And I'd love to be with you          If only I could

waiting
small talk

waiting
small talk

She smiles, eyes rimmed red as sunsets
I unclasp her small brasiere

'So Goodbye', she says, to no one in particular,
'You who were waiting for me.

 

The hour's too fine afterall '

I wipe her tears, I cup her breasts

 

heart beating in my hand
the Perfume River flows beneath our feet

 

 

...