Closed-eye dude on bus,
makes me clamber over him
did I rouse Coleridge?
☯
Well, that’s my outburst
for today; no question left
but where to be kind.
☯
Lovers before me,
painted, black-haired, sharp laughter…
will they remember?
☯
1992
was twenty-one years ago;
has Raymond paid more?
☯
Oh, I must giggle
at the poor unfortunate
who has my own foot.
☯
Seven more buttons
on his jacket than I have–
he must be a dolt!
☯
This gaudy knit hat
“Hand made by Hazel Hickey”
and need more be said?
☯
Their colt legs take them
all five, all six, to the bus,
blinking in the sun.
☯
Jack and Clara, dead
decades; still I mourn the fence
over their garden
☯
?
it becomes a question of
what at last died, here.
☯
The AmEx Gold Card,
souvenir of higher hopes,
good for one sandwich.
☯
A bird in the sky
a thick truck that same color
pulls into traffic.
☯
The pump which feeds me
feeds him, too, way over there,
picking at a screen.
☯
Chest pain killed Issa,
for my own sake, hold out hope–
one more dull summer!
☯
Chili, cheese, dish soap,
my neighbor’s shades shut next door
it’s been a good life.
☯
Mysteriously
the tote bag shivers mid-morn
does it wish to live?
☯
That one blank spot out
of my soul, if I have one–
Philly Joe Jones.
☯
Left wrist and both feet
sticking out the blanket’s ends
still, still the headache.
☯
Six-thirty pm
enough bedroom light remains
to divine the dark
☯
He’s in his own world
cursing the train tunnel guard
will all fall but soon?
☯
Arbitrarily
five, starting from somewhere, right,
and ending the same.
☯
