Kiss Kiss Kiss Stalin

Back when dirty dealing swindlers realized Hitler was going to consolidate power as if a God would, in Gotham Wood,

Many of the swindlers, gritty, nitty, solemn stealers, amidst brewers and long time devotees of random, steadfast, willing swilling

There was plenty of power, glory, youth, stamina, vitality, sexiness,

The Peruvian Jew, sitting madly in the company of this secretary he had never met, in the UN Building, with its file cabinets, immaculate hallways, little nooks here and there, where were workers to whisper an honest South American — probably not a Puerto Rican– that’s Caribbean, and kick my ass.

The Peruvian Jew, who did eschew, did a gold, a rose or a cedar, did espouse, a perverted attraction to this secretary, who had gone from out her school of short hand, effluvium, drillmaster a rap a tap tap, a tippity toes a where the wind blows, a shame sham advertisement, pretty smell, vanilla,

The Peruvian Jew, on the whatever floor of this modernist, brutalist, postmodernist, was to snuggle with this secretary. She was his, and though he knew her scent, and remembered his mother, would never smother. This was his beginning, his spark, his home in a foreign home, another country.