Dismembered highways
flashing flower stalks
whirlpool hands
crumbling whittled tar.

Cones on high alcoves
dripping chlorinated light.
Spaces where the heart
has no more body.

A fire in an upside down fountain.
Stairwells jutting out of empty land
damp cloth against fading sight
hot wings in a bed of
orange and yellow vapors of form.

Long limbs moving in liquid transparency
over the cake crushed
of rolled-up dusk
in a handbag
or kissing on a bent bridge
to brush her face off.

Plucked by a shivering cable
he leans on the pop of the voice
and smooths it back
without a drink.