three beats of the heart

for Patti,



The mad ones flowing
through this countries veins
kick its eyes open
and from behind those stunned lids
and wide wide corneas
lets take it all in

truth in words
scratched in tile
and the dust on yr shoes
after

across the road
brownstone bodhisattvas
sit tossing photographs
into the fire
sit
holding onto stories
ending
with the pulll of the Earth