and a song i was writing is left undone
the city becomes an umbrella for her
protects her from the interior:
( of a rained-in home? )
and each star-speckled street light tells her
[ RED LIGHT, GREEN LIGHT;
walk, don't walk;
walk, don't t a l k ; ]
don't look strangers in the eye
grope blindly and you will find a left hand
to perform a helping hand's work !
(and maybe the cataclysmic luck she runs from
will leech onto another ? )
as she continues crossing
INTERSECTIONSrailroadSTATIONS
and gazes at electric fences,
hiding stone trees with marble fruit
wondering what good it is when
{{ sheismadeof
dustrustdust. }}