everywhere
conmen lined benches indifferent to
pleasure and pain
all afternoon saying do-what-you-got-to-do
sipping coolers, counting money,
plotting revenge
long blue blooms strained up toward
the forbidden sky
we heard the initial wail of Junior
Walker’s Shotgun
and went for the dancefloor wanting
to boogaloo
like a yard of poultry scratching at
chicken feed
infinite oceans beyond us teemed
with life and doubt
a pushback youth posse leant and
posed laconic
on the corner of maximized streetlit
intention
before our cosmic wisdom swerved them
gas-cloudlike
trees cast shade on magnificent green
meadows
at the end of the world Ise cautiously
optimistic
where boulders and ice collided
with bullet reason
and swamps séanced into gulches and
empty rivers
horses ran and lingered backlit by fading
sunlight
and ballerinas practiced in tights and
tie-back hair
across the dulled wooden floors before
mirrors
in long and graceful motion outside
their selves
complex firelight frisked laughing
at half-shut gates
you sang first everythings to start
my psychiatry
told me first your last loose
idioms you don’t know
around and round the blue fescued
picketfence lawn
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