for k
three men
in dentist’s chair
await a specialist
who brylcreams
his hair.
the girl’s little octopus
buffs their toes,
with his
most iridescent
catwalk pose
she inhales smoke,
via doll house chimney,
an eye full of squares.
day elongates
stretching closer
to hear the mopoke
call her down
from the starry stairs.
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