Selected Poems
Everlasting Never Was
Where will you be this evening? Watch for me from one of millions
and billions of open-faced windows along Queens Boulevard.
I sit and yearn, idle in three wide red-light lines of downhill traffic.
Would you wait fresh, in new candle-light?
Could you wear classical music in your hair
like peace on earth or feathers, if you could
and we would listen together in separate places.
I pass our bar, the stag and doughboy statues
crawl closer, near where even those believers
who got down on their knees to play odd and
pretended to pray, along the roadside railings.
You can see above swirled spent pyres of fiery
fallen leaves; wind gathered like smoke and carpet
in curbside gutters, all day light long, at Yellowstone
You see me cross your streets, corner to corner and back again
trapped with crowds of come home commuters, at 71st and Continental.
I remember near the fire house, you returning to the car,
to lean in, passenger side and you burnt my lips
with an everlast kind of kiss, until, we never meet again.
and billions of open-faced windows along Queens Boulevard.
I sit and yearn, idle in three wide red-light lines of downhill traffic.
Would you wait fresh, in new candle-light?
Could you wear classical music in your hair
like peace on earth or feathers, if you could
and we would listen together in separate places.
I pass our bar, the stag and doughboy statues
crawl closer, near where even those believers
who got down on their knees to play odd and
pretended to pray, along the roadside railings.
You can see above swirled spent pyres of fiery
fallen leaves; wind gathered like smoke and carpet
in curbside gutters, all day light long, at Yellowstone
You see me cross your streets, corner to corner and back again
trapped with crowds of come home commuters, at 71st and Continental.
I remember near the fire house, you returning to the car,
to lean in, passenger side and you burnt my lips
with an everlast kind of kiss, until, we never meet again.
