Gyroscope Review 15-3 - Page 27

Singapore by Will Nixon No one would cast you as a clerk, Orpheus, not when you've been filmed as a French poet slipping through mirrors for a liaison with death, or a samba dancer with trigger-happy feet carrying your shield like the sun down from your mile-high slum. But doesn't the most extravagant love grow in a dimlylit basement like mushrooms the color of Venus or Mars? That's why I look for you, Orpheus, not among studly red carpet stars or scowling on stage with a phallic guitar, but at the post office, weighing packages for women of all ages, the guy with a faded sea anchor tattoo from a night in Singapore you don't even remember.
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