Kazi

Kazi

–

–

Who do you think of

with the smoke of cigarettes?

A dry, unsweet smell.

No, not who? Where? Where, then. Where?

–

Do you think of the morning, cold and clear:

Filled with the sound of sun and it’s reflection

Across your greasy glasses,

In a courtyard of bricks and unvarnished wooden benches

–

The frozen pond foot

prints followed in snow: falling,

Flow the black water

–

And do you hear his laugh

Standing around scratching his middle eastern beard?

The hand-rolled cigarette

Ostensibly waved about;

His white teeth

As you discuss the day’s philosopher

–

Admiring him like you’ve never admired yourself.

–

Discuss your love and

Your hate (and your love?)[?] Realize

Sameness, meditate.

From the west

From the west

the sky changes from (filthy) yellow to (antiseptic) blue (littered with rose-colored crumpled Kleenex clouds, their dark bellies half hidden, facing away from solid ground, upturned like poisoned fish) some hospital floor of the dying

 

the death of the day

hand in hand with death of the

self, to be reviewed

 

the sick phoenix sky

consumed with an actor’s woes

bites the glass pill tonight