BLACKBURN
I hear
your voice again
as light
trapped in ale
at the lips of old men
a net
spread
for words in
the low grass of my throat...
Pablo, see
they're
playing Kung Fu
on the roof below
two Newyorikan kids in black giis
and a blond Ukranian girl in toe-shoes
the boys
are showing her
how to kick like a grasshopper
how to move her arms like a praying mantis
September sun
is flooding the western sky
and wind
is cool
E-N/E
slipping down
my comprehension
like a ghost I thought had abandoned
its old routes between my sleep and the outer air
—Paul Pines