One-Week Dean

By Daniel Aristi

You hombres’d like to know maybe or, rather, I’d like to tell you of a pale whoreboy by the Texaco, like the last chocolate – he’s long been travelling, he says, the capillaries of the nation.

Leather-Jacket-Right-On-Own-Skin type this fallen, fallen, three times fallen James Dean; jacket’s unzipped, door ajar & straight into his ivory (also, Marlboros for fireplace).

He meets men under mesh cap domes, the John Deeres, the corn-minded – & they eat him in fast-forbidden, the prince with the pachinko body who services the back alleys in America.

Look close at this dandelion of a runaway loving quickly men all men, because next week he’s gone, next Sunday, with the gipsy rains, and buried.

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Daniel Aristi

Daniel Aristi / About Author

Daniel Aristi was born in Spain. He studied French Literature and Economics. He lives now in Switzerland with his wife and two children. Daniel’s work has been recently featured or is forthcoming in Puerto del Sol, Berkeley Poetry Review, and Fiction Southeast.

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