Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.
As they joylessly wait for reassignment,
they dangle their feet into the blue abyss at the brink
of heaven like boys on a wall bumping their sneakers
on the bricks below.
Today, a bird invisible among the trees
cries Jericho Jericho Jericho O no O no
all the afternoon long.
Two decades ago I’m walking down 18th Street when two beautiful young women walk my way and as we pass by each other one of them looks at me then … Continue reading