Licensed CC-BY-SA.
The ambulance man
he sees me, my northbound bus,
then runs to the west.
☯
Gasoline can, spilled
then righted, five yards away
sunny-hot pavement.
☯
Yes, Lloyd Building,
Yes, Int’nl Teriyaki,
Stay, feeble sunshine!
☯
Five pigeons, rooftop
one does a dance while the rest
perch, vigilant.
☯
Does anybody
think, of this old bench, and its
conversation husks?
☯
“I can’t stand the rain”–
or, for today’s purposes
the gaps in the rain
☯
The engine surges
as it drives the pavement saw
9 am Saturday
☯
Spider, seventh floor
spun its web in a recess
what makes its dinner?
☯
A hard grind ahead
but I’m lying on my back
grateful for no rain.
☯
Waterspout, column
a leak from the overpass
white gold from the sun
☯
The washerwoman’s
cry in her sleep: “She flies!”
…her sole indulgence
☯
“Where are you going?”
He just makes a fishy face
and doesn’t answer
☯
One horrible week
the library’s north window
it’s Sunday again.
☯
Piebald fireplug
flaking yellow over over green
shorter than the weeds.
☯
I punched myself
in the head, last week, both sides
still tender, still sore.
☯
The boy waits his turn,
with a smaller boy, plastic
one wears a red cap.
☯
In the heat I smell
the man knitting a green hat
has not washed today.
