A river I couldn’t find
flows through my head.
You are stending
below the cottonwood tree
on the rivers’ bank.
I listen to the wind
move the tree’s leaves.
Your long dark hair
wraps around you.
I can’t see your face
22 Ottobre 2004
Samarkand
I like to imagine
that all the dead
I’ve known by now
fill some ancient & lost city,
& that Timour
treats them well.
24 Novembre 2002
Room 104, 513 Broadway
She came to me in the night,
eighteen & naked, her red hair long
over her shoulders & breasts.
She took my cock in her hands,
I want you, she said. Let’s do it
like we did the first time.
You’re dead, I said.
It’s OK, we can do it –
she wrapped her legs around me.
We can, she said, we can.
Not me, I said, I don’t
fuck around with the dead.
I could hear trucks passing,
saw through the shades
that the sun was just up.
Bye, bye I said
Phoenix 6 Aprile 2005
We sat on the roof,
watchin the full moon pass,
the winr bottles empy.
8 Ottobre 2003
for Jeff Bryan
& Stefan Hyner
Marielle
Alla days are difficult.
Today I have flowers
1 Maggio 2005, Nyons
Polypheme surprenant acis et galatée
The four of us sit inside, Cafe Rostrand,
look out at le Jardins & the soft rain.
Alba is perched on books on a chair,
eats vanilla & atrawberry ice cream with a spoon.
Karl & Marielle are eating baked apple pie.
I wait for my onion soup.
The four of us finally walk across the street,
through the gateway, into the gardens,
under umbrellas, is raincoats.
Alba is delighted to play in the wet gravel.
Karl leads us to the fountain,
the statues of a naked man & woman,
lying togheter at water’s edge.
You & me, he says, turning to Marielle,
I’ thin, she says.
I suppose I am beast above,
trying hard watch it all.
As the four of us move from the gardens,
we look at the exhibition,
huge photos hung on iron fence.
I note one of wedding procession
heading of a finish line ribbon.
2 Novembre 2005 Paris
poesiaspontanea 
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