Of the two new lyric poems I have out in Ex-Ex-Lit, one of them, "A Match," has a neat counterpart in Apparition Poems. The counterpart is Apparition Poem #1543:
What could be more crass
than a round-trip ticket to
Los Angeles? Nothing but
beds of starlets, flawless in
perfect color harmony but
vomit stains in the toilet, I
don't know what could be
more crass, in fact I don't
know anything anymore, I
think the sky is marvelous.
The sublime gets sucker-punched by the ridiculous, and vice versa.
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