Wayne Allen Sallee & DBE

The following poems by Wayne Allen Sallee appeared in the poetry anthology I released way back when, Dead Blue Eyes. Wayne has kindly given me permission to reprint them here.

#

together in black & white

in pages of dark fantasy
within a time too late
they were found again,
whole years later,
she in ebon garters
licking smooth the bullet
hole in his skull, the
one he made when they were
together in black & white

#

they talk of hell

january sweat, you'd think el
nino but no, it's the wrong
kind, fills my lungs
the passengers on the train
standing, they talk of hell,
and me, i'm afraid
to check for maggots
crawling under my neck

#

SECRETS THAT YOU KEEP

I know secrets.
I know which bus drivers
do not look to see
if your transfer has
expired. I know
which waitresses
will give you an extra
bun. How to get
the boss to like you.
There is only one
other man in Chicago
who knows these
secrets. He stands
naked in the alley
off Van Buren, hissing
to passers-by: You want
to see something stinky?
If you get close
enough, he will stick
razorblades
into your eyelids.