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Downloading the Meltdown
- University of Pittsburgh Press
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21 Downloading the meltdown Rumple of clouds at sunset, low and pink, Underbelly of heaven in the summer slack, and me Depressed as a backdoor detective on a case of slow clues. I’m never lonely as long as I have my own body To interrogate, my mind with its whips and pincers. I buckle at the slightest threat; I confess In the high pure pang of a choirboy singing At some ceremonious occasion for the faint of heart. And now the hot night, the moon cool as a bishop In a boudoir. What you can’t get over, You must get past. Through a haze of smoke and rum, What’s left of me squints at the odds and ends. ...