out of the second time on twelfth street,
rid of the man romantically playing his guitar
on a lighted platform where i dragged h.
without payment, i understood
brought him there, knowing!
just knowing he could not, but knowing that i could!
O God,
but an illuminated, removed manhole from the road where i grew
was releasing the underworld
in a swift circling of events,
more quickly than it could be removed
or shut----
we were packing cedar doors
from buildings to darkened automobiles
and i saw j.
previously dreamed of him,
desiring to possibly
cross paths between buildings
balance between trees
to fall into a reconciliation
instead of a flickering to nothing
a father, but
a child to be left
in a basket
on twelfth street
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