***
This city died. Blue streetcars moan
on the curves, the streets can't curb
a nervous gray crowd , colored light streams from the signs.
Voices,
dust , exhaust. This city died when you understood
how easily it could die . Those who think that it happens in flashes
and
claps of thunder,
as in the Scriptures, are wrong. So is the Master
who sneers that it will come on eat's paws. They are wrong
about the method . Not ready : in mid-word, with an
unsent letter, with a woman still wanting love , a hidden
sin which will stay mortal- no one is
ready . Love what is doomed . There is no other
love. Part each time as if forever ,
that is, be kind, forgive . Don't put off for tomorrow ,
don't keep back the great , important words , there may not be
time, or space . Henceforth there will be
no other love . This city is
everywhere .
