Alone at night I bring the valleys of the world
to rest. Ok, what I mean is that green flows
from my basin and at midnight I’m transformed
to rain. No, no, no – let’s not realize anything!
A penny shivers on a grimy floor and no one
stoops to gather its splintery tang of light.
Our hands have tasted language and air,
our throats the misery of silk. Say what you will,
say what you mean – cloves gathered in a blue
ceramic bowl. White swans and a boy holding
a harp, willows gentle as a careless moon.
All day I followed my stomach down the street,
that tourist with its list of cherry trees.
Never mind this strange city with its gray heat
and street food scent of gyros, roasted nuts
and sugar spun into cloudy webs of pink and blue.
Alone at night I heave an ocean on my back.
Forgive me, that’s not exactly the truth I meant
to tell, I, brother of whales and gulls and angelfish.