RANDALL MANN
TAGGED
i.m. Kevin Killian
The flowers never wilt.
The gallerist, a brute.
Kevin flips his phone
into a crystal flute.
We order pay-per-view,
a short by Kenneth Anger.
I doff my undershirt
and eye a wire hanger.
I’ll see him by the cache.
I’ll do as I am told.
And when he frames, I freeze—
the center cannot fold.
The sheet is haute couture.
He wears the latest taste.
The choker, little pearls—
like us, he says, of paste.