

Thinking about Dane. Who is in jail right now. Hang in there.
That night we lit black snakes on an anonymous stoop just below Union Square.

i am a dog, whining
i am a tethered pole
my wet rope made of worms
i finger-pick night in
preparation-less and
rolling into walls
i
go
very hungrily, forward
to ledges where
the dipthongs
lure the fishes to
our boats
forgetfully thirsty
worthlessly giving
holding
my hands out
into empty air
oh never to come clean
these fevers over nothing
now diving boats and bells and whistles
take my voice from me
All things tactile take their leave
And how we are suspended
Each calm, unwrestled
Talking of sand,shells,stones
Wondering what is He
Finishing with
Who are We to ask
We
Hanging
Between each a song
Booming forever
To our crowd of stars