20 May 2005 | Vol. 5, No. 1

two faux boho lechers walk into a bar

by MEGAN A. VOLPERT

           for andrei codrescu's charming wife

once i knew an old man who very much enjoyed falling in love

and given more or less whiskey

could affect a transylvanian accent with some precision

the corners of his eyes sprouted half an inch of wrinkle

for every poem this guy tried to write

which accounts for how wizened he appeared to me

when his ghost came at me in a dream

this was very disheartening

because the old man is still out there somewhere

pressing on with his poetry

and i wonder what miracle will happen

when his face runs out of room for more wrinkles

this guy would probably put on his poker face

and tell me about virgins waiting to take on his extra wrinkles

but then i would smile back with glossy eyes

and in rumanian confess i have taken all his virgins

because when you put surrealist drunks in a room together

mockery is the sincerest form of flattery