You've left me alone with people
I retreat to things I can't articulate
To film-blue skies and carabiners
To tents and hanging biplane barns
To film-blue skies and diffraction
Spiked cars, To grainy chandeliers
And hotdog heat, and red white and
Blue popsicle air. To sailboats and
Deserts jeeps, To bowtied custodians
Shuffling decks of gilded cards, to
Jewels, To bullet-shattered orange
Juice bottles, to Queens smog and
Queens snow, to scraped stickers on
Ski lodge bedrails, Jewish townhouses
To plow truck radios. To scraped away
Stickers on glass subway exit roofs,
To lithe lithe lithe jean jacket torsos
Exiting into the sun. To sunlight streaming
Through blue thread blankets in
Backseats of cars parked outside Arizona
Courthouses, to spray paint glinting
In trainyard night, To chairs bursting
Out of sixth story San Francisco windows.
To karate tournaments in Northern
California, veiny hands beating bricks,
To Chicago vigils, to suits returning
From rooftop vigils, spyplanes soaring
Over snowy hills, World's Fair walls
Receding in a concrete curve, To
Cruise ship hulls, Texas riverboats.
To ice-eaten barnhouses and frozen
Footprints, to leopard print lamplit
Mausoleum pools, to black dots descending
Down Denver slopes. To