32.

the dark possibilities

of barroom jazz

coiled smoke and yellowed

glass bent through loss

in eighth-notes (swing it

) flatted fifths, that

incidental thing thrown

long over blooming

color, blue light, a blues

march spun into

improvised

clarity

(the hat, just so

tilted over closed

eyes) those lies, so

fluid as to eclipse what

ever was ever

was ever

was

31.

so the morning took you

and not the night’s infinite

chambers, where the dogs

run wild (or so you sang

) not the sleek, long hounds

but the round, rising glow

upward through new green

with a whisper (your song

) and sage advice for the

timid – leave alone – lift

your old coat from the bed

from across (still singing

) your now finished legs

and rise, through ceilings

out, above these two rivers

leaving just (your loving

sound to soothe the living