Aerial Views of the City
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Brother, the bus ticket is fading and the night is bestial. In my hand the beer bottle breaks, taking my blood to heaven. There is pretty sunshine there, even the negative shimmers in quick gold, the gold coming from so many dreams. The boy who resembles my father. He draws a face–it’s open, it’s mine. I confess: I think that we have been holding hands all along. Let us go sit. Tonight, the elephants leave the story, the record-players leave the sky. |
Time, it’s time. We left elaborate instructions for them. The car on the edge of a quarry, the keys inside. The swimmer, underwater. And this poor fellow on the bridge, lying. He has a lava future to sell. A Mesozoic. Paleolithic. Hiding under the lizard: lizard-skin, lizard- pelt, lizard-penis. He cannot picture the exact moment, exactly locate the moment she drops her shawl for the dandelion, for the road. But he says the water is spotted with dark berries, with thorns. |