Hong Kong
Vain boys make saucy
ampersands with jagged arms
coaxing the smoky
air of a midnight bistro.
And when they grow up
nothing matters. Desire
is master of raw recruits.
*
The sparkling edge of
any human form, one full
heart; the eye; the
open stone! These waver, then
down the avenue |
fade in a cloud of faces,
Time's malarial exhaust.
Structure
15 lines · 2 stanzas