45

A man in a red coat straddled the shoulder

Off the street to vanish into a cloud

Looking up between his arms he saw the sidewalk

Floundering lustily around

He followed his eyelids up the stairs and

Turned and stared at a lustered pound

That gave him as a reply a jellied smile from its

Green and wide mouth

As he passed the door he rolled his eyes

He was galvanized through the phone and

Understood the crackle of typewriters,

Phonographs and heliophones

But it was Sunday and walking and talking

- It's all the same- he could've been (...)

He came here for a lady while the sun & the wind were

Walking and talking,

Walking and talking

The light snuggles a substance

Like a worm in Vatican

Set at a radio broadcast that long ago began

The sound dropped him earlier from somewhere

This time

The saxophone fish musicians were

Unfair

Then nightfall, my dear, flung his gambling limbs

Along the street to here

Though the walls were all of concrete

He could by a simple pressure of his teeth

Break the tender mechanism which sustained them

And dropped a powdered smile

Thus was he welcomed, thus were his feet

Bathed to be roared back in scream

Then he knew that she would stalk maybe scrap him

And by orchids sing about it

He became 1, 2, 3, wobbling dishes for her

Gentle guests, his friends and enemies

But it was Sunday and at a quiet terrace

He could have been seated and talking

And at nightfall he shuddered,

The horror of that dusk

The eyes shut,

Standing