In St. James park
The insupportables of life, and suns in a
stand-off with dust,
unleash the crows on them—just two crows!—
The dark wing, as it's mean
and stand-offish, snagged
and sanded in the same wind and the sun,
is upon them
Mohawks compete with locals
for some fear, too
Do they mean to join us, in the parks?
Wind and the suns
mean no harm, not with all the tents & the needles
in a row; not when sex cathects a church and compels a lot
of Love
Exaction
Electricity
They mock the Abbé who offers donuts, or the greying
politico with fairish jaw
Girls isolated lie sprawled in yurts
eating out of a can,
cold-looking
What's it a question of anyways, money, sex, or some signs
without organs?
Nothing's heavy-handed here! They repeat daily—
Look! just
isolated
yurts,
locals,
girls, cold-bitten
copyright(C)Conrad DiDiodato2011
