We crest the tracks above
ground in time to miss the day's last
word on blue. Schwartzes Leder
in usual style on the platform,
so why at this distance did I expect
her skin all milk and down?
Pockmarks. She's 20 past what
I highballed with all those bodies
between us. I was fixed on her boots.
Think there's a condo Joe in Somerville
maybe slides them off her feet while she
unpins her epaulets, wets a cloth?
Or no? Will she pour a dry sapphire?
Walk a beige retriever along the fragile lights
across the river? We've reached
our stop: THE FRAGILE LIGHTS
ALONG THE RIVER. I'm going
to go turn on the light in my room,
do my part, keep the spectators
panting in their worn seats along the river.