SATURDAY MORNING DRIFT:
Walking empty streets at the back of nowhere.
Waste ground, parking dirt for long distance trucks,
virgin black top under the bridge. Your beautiful
dancing marks, so precisely placed, never defile
the walls. Transforming object into sculpture,
flirt with my electric eye, drifting in a chill wind
between the rails & the river.
(K)
ever ever i read you.
smile and kiss for your e-eye and for the mouth in our heat