thick air. tonite
I got no prospects
& I’m spinning slow
in this silky cocoon
hot damp & soft as
somebodys address
& phone no. you
held clenched in
your hand too long.
queens on stilts
wade through the dark
marshy streets. the
stars are pale and misty
like far-off streetlights,
the trees sweat &
droop in the milky haze.
I am drawing from
life if you care to
call it that. tonite
I will be hard to
please. honey
I wouldn’t have you.
cool & deliberate i
stand & dust off
my jeans for the
swim home. tonite
it’d take more than
that to faze me.
thick air. thick air.
1977
[Written on a humid night in the summer of 1977.]
