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CURTIS 

ROGERS

Variations Alligator Wine

Your umbrella, in a pinch, rebrands

into precincts. Pitted against a dud

Zippo, it does what we can’t dabble

in, kills time long since passed. A bar-

napkinned number you slip me, dressed

down. Like a madman, like the Pet Shop

Boys said, kicking in chairs & knocking

down. Your sardine tin opens from both

ends. Pompadour gesture—your status quo.

An umbrella of metal hangs out over meat.

In a pinch, you backpedal. Set Google

Alerts to think on old friends. How they

nightcap & loogie, & bore to tears. Contra-

indicate for slate-gray onions. I pick you up

in a signal-lighting minivan, round the corner

from where you won’t say. What’s long gone

is going through a phase. I’ve put a little

something in the downpour. Say when.