for life and walking couples
leaning into inverted V's .
Last night I dreamed again
of one-winged birds who
had to fly in pairs .
I was an ancient pihi
too . But the only one I cared
to fly with was left-
winged just like me .
Arthur Vogelsang
GLASS BREAKING IN THE NIGHT
She went there on a dare,
Like a hunter with no bullets in her camera,
Shy in the baked , expensive streets ,
Cynical in the shade of the buggy, clean apartment.
Over the country the love-auto slowed each day (desert help)
So at last one would press and press to get to forty .
But got there .
There there was wonderful stationery among the bumpy whores
And a nice house on a urine-stained block.
There the helpful postman returned through the rich rock freaks
And the cracked teen freaks,
Keeping his own counsel.
(Who should throw a stone first?)
Or all was sun
Or in it, all aids
Warmed so the cure wouldn't be cold,
It'd be steaming going in, nice ,
Like the needle not the knife, or acquitted revenge ,
As if in our long dangerous day
The pants of any liar
Would always catch on fire .
There there was one vacant lot among big stuccos
