45*21

you are a saint in rubber boots
a doctor in a hat too big by two sizes
a Catholic without a heart
a dog without a priest
a calling card with zebra stripes
a suit with too many pleats
the sky's got too many stars tonight
it's giving me vertigo
I puked the color of Godzilla
in a fire of white flame
and rearranged the letters to spell Liza Gold
sweet Liza with breath of kumquat
how does your garden grow
I watched your breath on that silvery winter night
as the cars peeled out in jest to you
you munched french fries in the side show
and we made love like rummy clowns
in diapers made of silk
on the last day of the World's Fair
that year when ice cream was invented
a lasting toast to a misbegotten rite