Neon at sundown, early shadows
Going to meet the one and true darkness.
Avenue where I was a child in a shoe box,

Philosophers practicing their scissor-clips
In the dark,
So everything comes out

The long day has ended in which so much
And so little had happened.

time enough to feel
its just weight
to imagine its blinding clarity

An old dog afraid of his own shadow
In some southern town…
The story told to me by a woman going blind

It’s raining, it’s pouring,
And your heart is sad,
But you’re not about to say it.

There’ll be nothing but infinite space.
The silence supreme, the silence almighty.
Bright sky. Many stars.

Walking the streets of the city, sitting in a bar. 
Sometimes I take delight in the things I see; 
Sometimes I hardly notice what things are: 

As you look up at me and think you know
That in the light of now I’m such and such—
This light has been relinquished long ago.

A balloon drifting in a pool,
swivelling when the wind changes…