Apr
29
88 Poems for S
1.
my fountain-
head, talk joyce
to me and come
back to bed.
2.
where there is
no blackbird.
3.
I assume everything; what with
words and saying them.
4.
Someday I may interrupt
myself, suddenly find
the one I was walking home
from the subway, eating
chicken with a big brass band,
Jesus in all four corners
of my miss-spelled hand,
praying to the bird-lady
and to the limousine,
asking God for a quarter
to call my mother and
tell her that the rain came
close, today.
