Felt no pain against the water,
the tea-cup sky was a turquoise colour in its wrath
illuminating ambergris city in spot checks below.
The sperm whale population was in decline.
Little or nothing remained of former commitments.
A bitter legacy consumed itself in half-truths
against the sound of upturned lies.
Winding alleys come as the conscience of well plaid cities.
are open zippers revealing the indecent poor.
The fire hydrant lives of cellar inhabitants strain these urinals
for wretches sniffing out the edge of completed walls.
Gray nuisances, the men in asbestos overalls finding their way
through the apricot fire of dark, eclipse Park Plazas with the
stately elegance of empty dinner dishes or red trash cans
against indentured snow.