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| From New-in-Prague... |
My favorite cafe serves kerosene matches
that go out only with sirens
thump thump thumping at cardiac doors.
I've tried to drown them in pilsner falls.
Flapping arms I've taken flight... and still
they burn. I am sleepless over this
pending inferno. This game between hops & scotch,
studying white lines thick as pages,
counting quarter-to-two cracks in the plaster
waiting for the pipes to burst. I am
a medieval rocket - destined to hoist
red flags on the moons of dark ages.
I satellite spires, awake as a wheel
in the midst of zodiac clocks.
that go out only with sirens
thump thump thumping at cardiac doors.
I've tried to drown them in pilsner falls.
Flapping arms I've taken flight... and still
they burn. I am sleepless over this
pending inferno. This game between hops & scotch,
studying white lines thick as pages,
counting quarter-to-two cracks in the plaster
waiting for the pipes to burst. I am
a medieval rocket - destined to hoist
red flags on the moons of dark ages.
I satellite spires, awake as a wheel
in the midst of zodiac clocks.
17 October 2006
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