I rattled off the dates
of wars and revolutions.
I rejoiced

on the watch-chain
of our insomnia
it sits howling

At the beginning of the war, the streets resembled a promenade
of the most beautiful dogs, abandoned by their masters
who had run away from the burning town. Behind them remained

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.