Syrinx in the Subway

Wandering, it carries us weightless to our trains…

Chop —

it’s easiest to dream / when the breakwater breaks / and the tide rushes in

What spills over the dam is not water…

waterworks from a mad engineer
a god jumbled fountain…

as unlikely as a crow congealed in aspic…

In a low-shouldered bowl, spike eight ounces of vinegar with four ounces of water and set it on the bedside table…

I tell myself one life must yield to another…

And like very year, he’ll plop down on his porch and read a book…