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{darwin's finches} pj night rattled notes on running glass those are the words I remember you by our half young smiles, oyster cats down a clarinet river of hands back from the corner store with a bottle of chianti that you turn off the television for break off a cheese wedge for take off your pants for some are content enough to place their whole carry-on existence in one bag, some thought it easy to invent the wheel I spent the morning potting herbs for omelettes before a clatter of plates, postcards of desert flowers behind the figure walking across the street one whose shadow I love or almost loved or once went to a lobsterbake with or ate oysters on the halfshell with one whose eloquence was better than Kraft macaroni, better than irises and crocuses—the promise at least in one direction only, the figure moves away leaving empty bottles and taxis in a bright cancellation of night |
