Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-nine
Winter 2015
twenty-four junk mails
Jan Ball

Twenty-four junk mails deleted: Special Rate
Las Vegas Motel, which triggers where you are
now in some Marriott Renaissance hotel in London
with swimming pool and exercise room. I wait
for you here, a Lauren Bacall character in a Chicago
film noire contemplating reflections of the moon
on Lake Michigan ice floes that look like the roof
tiles of some mosaic cathedral, Chartres or Mont
San Michel during the twelfth century, Carey Grant
a knight of the templar somehow transposed to another
time and place galloping with fervor through the snow
on Lake Shore Drive to capture the holy grail
of your mind, his steed clip-clopping coconut shells:

               “We’re the knights of the round table,
               we dance when ’ere we’re able,”

according to Monty Python who is always inside
you, I know, laughing where I want to be, displacing
all the two-dimensional tables, economic explanations
animating the DVD center of your consciousness,

then watercolors on the screen with Brian’s hands.

About Jan Ball

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