Her Lips Are Copper Wire

whisper of yellow globesgleaming on lamp-posts that swaylike bootleg licker drinkers in the fogand let your breath be moist against melike bright beads on yellow globestelephone the power-housethat the main wires are insulate(her words play softly up and downdewy corridors of billboards)then with your tongue remove the tapeand press your lips to minetill they are incandescent