Old Jerusalem Lunar Calendar
When the last car’s smoke clears
And the city appears in its desolate way of living
And when the last bird flies from
Our company and the crumbs now lay lonesome
It’s time to go home
There’s always a quiet soul lurking
In the noise of empty streets
Under beauty there’s meaning, Silvia
You could have spared a couple more words
They resonate, they vibrate, become physical things
And this is home to me
It’s beauty
Two minutes of a song or dwelling hell
Hello, there
Take candy from the wasted poet-bum
When you say you miss my sleeping
Do you mean my active part in the way
You arrange your days and nights?
The water by the bedside, the joyous pills;
Today I heard we’re pretty together
And I believed it
May our ennui dissolve
May our boredom be recalled in lace and sepia
A stage into our splendor
It’s easy
To turn my eyes into loving you again
Take time still
To lift your arms, naked, in the mirror
