The wind is intimate with love
summer shimmers with imperial colors
someone fishing lonesomely measures
the earth's wounds
the chiming clock is swelling
those of you strolling through the afternoon
please join in the meaning of the age

some people bow to a piano
others carry a ladder by
sleepiness has been checked for a few minutes
only a few minutes
the sun is researching the shadow
I quaff water from a bright mirror
and spot the enemy in my mind's eye

the tenor's singing
enrages the sea like an oil tanker
at 3 A.M. I open a can
releasing those fish into the light