1530

POEMS ABOUT

What's the goreen thing
On the hood of the fog?

When I was papier-mache-ing
The man riding the catfish,

A holiday came and went,
Came and went, and where was I

But far from the traffic
Strumming the piano keys

Discovering where the songs
Fit in the niches along my ribs

In this vast foggy loneliness,
Might be smoke, might be feeling

Coming up through the floorboards
Despite all my shoulder

Up against everything I want
And the time spilling everywhere.