Poetry

Sure enough, I hear the old
I told you so:
Now that you have a child—

On a wall by his bed hangs a picture
Of a curious boathouse
On stilts in back water.

Driving to the airport, we pass the equestrian
statue in the park: the plumed general
on his narrow plinth. It’s not easy

It’s all come down to me sitting under a tree
on a river bank
on a sunny morning.
It’s an inconsequential event
that won’t go down in history.

Summer was flooding the city highways
bathing sycamores below the savage tenements,
[…]

Boulevard Lannes what are you doing so far out in space
With your garbage carts pulled by draught horses plodding
    one behind another…