You'll never see the sky
with my eyes because I don't
plan on a transplant.
As to your body
dripped on by Pollock
in Boca Raton
you'd have to peel back
the skin of my hat if you
wanted to suntan.
After that we'd fly
to Hatteras where the ocean
steams with many stars
and where we could slurp
on Cioppino or Bouillabaisse
and French kiss oysters
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