Brahms Piano Quartet No. 1
Brahms dreamt
the complacent
girl’s allergy to calamine
lotion screwed up her cat’s
psyche. Clara’s
hubby had a writing
block, which threatened
the Chinese dinner en famille.
Insensate, whorish,
the taxi failed to bring me here.
The hoodlum gang
coalesced. The dime
novel mugged
the Madonna of the Postpartum
Exasperation, a rain of
alphabet-soup letters alighting
on a background landscape’s pinched fronds.
