what veil have I?
Water sweeps
down the drain pipe—
push the leaves
out of me
dead and brown—
impasse.
I have tobacco
in my meth.
Boulder, California
surfs the snow
all summer.
White water horses
race Sisyphus—
what are you doing?
Anthony walks
on the shore,
Cleopatra’s ashes
in his hands.
No comments:
Post a Comment