(no subject)

[aslant]

yesterday



a long laundromat hour
an old fade

a familiar slide of time

soap in boxes
machines of it
a sign begs
keep this place
clean.

outside the bars
so wetly lit, or
silent huddled storefronts;
electric buses passing by with
their peculiar leviathan sound
noising the night.

electricity humming along
wires strung above the street,
their fine web of wire.


i wait to be inhabited.
the fold the smooth
the laundry and its tumble

there isn't a thing i do today
that does not have your name
written, sounded into it;


sounds like something
maybe looking for air
breaching above the wetness

maybe calling a name
out into that dark folding sky.



5.2.02 jbc/