it doesn’t hear the intensifying cry of the kids.
in the labyrinth of the Kennedy Airport.
Oh Allen Ginsberg, you passed away-oh Moloch!
cleaning an American’s nose by now.
I shaved and wrote a couple of lines.
right in the day’s eye.
maybe it would start working again.
with-it’s the very last hope.
Sometimes it’s autumn at times.
and say this too is ours.
letters, on a car trunk.
FOR SALE – was written on a kiosk door.
FOR SALE – was written on a factory wall.
as well as on bushes and sporadic mushrooms.
status, the sun and the stars.
gorges and mountains, cats and dogs.