Watermark

            you’re on the docks &
when the summer comes           I promise
not to stay in the alleyways
            in the sand the suburbs
where the babies run

do you hear?

I swear you not in Paris
in Puerto Rico     the mid-Atlantic    the funeral home
the paper store, pal        I’ll buy you a bird

and a banana and we can sit
            where the sun goes in squares
when the night
comes or stays and don’t lets
                                    be frightened
                        of sound.

I try again:
            I forged the pathway up
through the sand and cobble       you in tennis shoes
beaming up the concrete
           I, an animal, panting.

You in the audience clapping fingers
           encore! encore!
                                       so I recite
the alphabet and juggle handkerchiefs
           take a tally of scars & stories
find an old passport picture        & burn it
                                               remember?

it was Barcelona           & we were browned skin
           in white tee shirts—matching convicts
in a photo booth           didn’t have change
waddled in the bike lane to the embassy

please, sir, some water?

who wants to be noticed anyways?
           toothless
           and in love
in the hotel room, the café, the theater
the window        the city (or four)
the post office, beach town,
highway            this way

don’t you feel it

~~~~~