a tissue of citations

A Tissue of Citations

I'm getting to know the immemorial feelings

painting these old planes as a celebration in a way

to juggle notions of love and loss--down on the street

in an American way, a certain sort of old-fashioned way

in the middle of the night and wander through the

secret function and a secret meaning. But then you think

the newly appropriated public space, the city as art

was bent to the weight of the room, distrustful of

the word love as just another way to show off they're

the retouched gloss of a dead crow mounted on a

great swell of anticipation. Etched outside the wide

wound to overcome, this passage out of childhood,

I promise you that you're going to be safe.