Monday, April 6, 2009
the two thousands -- 6
Once I was caught in a perfect crowd.
It was a flickering heap.
That city was made of intestines.
The children there screwed their courage to a cow,
but this was not what we saw of it.
We saw a people composed of gestures.
They shared such promise.
They were those-who-would-never-fuck-out-loud.
The conjugal flesh was nothing
like that in the cities of the past.
I promise you these were composed
almost entirely of men wearing glasses.
They felt natural
in their concerns
so that they could eat or move their hands
without so much thinking.
Their pants narrowed.
There was no one way we could be unconnected.
It was a mass we were afraid of.