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Logging Time: East by West - West by East After Rauschenberg: A Retrospective
Your Suicide
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"Oh, Suck My Breasts," She said. . .

“Oh, suck my breasts,” she said & when I did she shuddered & a light sweat broke out on her forehead & her lips quivered & she spread her palms on my neck & spread her legs under me & waves washed over us & the sea took us to an island on fire & placed us in a cave above the flames where two waiters, one black & one white, opened a magnum of Champagne & served us oysters & muscles & shrimp in a light curry sauce & a blue moon descended & wrapped us in its cool light & we awoke in a village in Mexico where we found ourselves sleeping against an adobe wall & a yellow dog licked your face & we flew over the roofs of the town like newlyweds in Chagall’s painting & someone was playing a lute & another a saxophone & you said, “Take me with you” & I promised I would & we met again on a street in Florence where a young boy was selling watches & another his sister & we took both & found ourselves in a pension where we could finally tell the time & the three of us bathed in the common bath & lay in each other’s arms until the morning sun slid across the wall & we heard a lone guitar – a flute – a mandolin . . .