Soon the summer
Now the pleasant purgatory
Of spring is over,
Soon the choking
Humidity
In the city
On the fire escapes
In a sleeveless T-shirt
Smoking a cigar
In tune with the tremor
Of the mindless yellow
Commercial traffic
Moving in the city,
Where no one really
Buys a car,
American
Or otherwise,
Where we will.
As Rilke said we would
Where we will
Wake, read, write
Long letters
And in the avenues
Wander restlessly
To and fro
On foot in
The humidity,
Where soon I'll shower, dress,
Take the dog out for a piss,
And mail this.