320

PRIVATE BOOKS

The sidewalks broken milk smoking carry
Wild with privilege bright as use
Carry chrysanthemums downstream
Sunken plazas vanishing up the chimney

Irately humming lozenge cross-hatch
Honesty carkey money badguy dream
Drinking for weeks among rotting pumpkins
Chasm at the road's end, take me drifting

She'd lean forward and look aside,
And barely at all, she'd sing.