From a sky sand-brushed and blurring, rain.
Plants on the sill heave signs of loneliness.
The lamp glows, a pendulous jewel hung

My Hamlet pulls his yes through an architecture of yeses
though it might appear that he merely negates,
sitting in the dark after murder,

Two flights of stairs through the narrow hallway,
entrance into a single papered room, the lover floating
above his beloved with head turned under neck to kiss her,

How far does this street extend
beyond the cemetery, the Catholic school,
the oil refinery, the trolley’s turnabout,