Patrol

RALPH POMEROY

PATROL

"F, patrouiller-to go through puddles"

I travel through thin jails of rain

Indifferent to the man I am.

My hair runs down into my eyes,

My washed-out levis suck my thighs.

Dumb beauty is on top again

And I am high on Possible.

We seek a dreamed-of innocence,

Uncertain what disguise to wear:

Getup of forgetfulness

Seems to be the proper dress.

Anxious, but not knowing why,

I cruise in ambiguity.

Now, wearing water as my mask,

I navigate brisk barriers,

Free, yet surrounded by cell doors

Sounding like struck poles of brass

Hit into music by the wind

Whose nightstick prods wet orchestras.

I spot the one I went to meet

Walking down a dead-end street.

He comes to meet me as if he,

Soaked and uncertain, knew me.

As we near, the rain clangs shut

Forming a mirror from a door.

Mirror, dim in this downpour,

Reveal the warden of this blood

That hustles through my corridors

And cons my senses to wipe clear

Your bright shield they shine to show

Unconsciousness I stare to know.