Barefoot Las Vegas. A place devoted
to the possibilities of a spark.

Funny how the unnecessary
can seem so important

Give me a word for the
mourning of houses when it rains
through an open window.

Where I search for new rhythms, whose beats are animals and
men.

you two who have taken each other
many times before, then this
is something to be trusted,

We ate alone in the immense dining room.
My mother got me to eat each night
by saying any meat was buffalo meat.

The seven-story trees
on the jogger-thronged hill
beyond your back garden

Pei designed the building with views,
smooth masonry, and the mountains aligned
for a photo opportunity; inside are files
sufficient for forever, for fine tuning weather.

Falling to
his potting-mix-brown
avenue—

This place, too, has its own integrity:
split, ruined, abandoned
walls of chipped blue cursed