- Non-Erotic Poetry
- one eye open
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one eye open
the brilliance of these bellringers
each with elaborate scripts,
a paradise revolt againt indifference
the bhudda bellied Indian man who calls me "sir",
the unshakability of the marketress as
she nods to me to look at the old man smiling-
he could take the automated world, or he could leave it.
but he spends an hour choosing the best apples in the bin.
the magnificence of these musicians
feedback stored like birdseed in their sacred cellars,
calling out the castaway dance hall ghosts
in their medicine hats.
inundated enough in back eddy brackish rivers
Im looking for the galvanized culverts
where the flashflood stormwater
takes my bootheel clean off.
