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She is self-enclosed.
She rode the el
Mindless of the track
The parallel steel; her hair
Wind-drawn now on the platform,
Blurs her gaze over the shops
And yellow outposts
On the sidewalk of 200th street.
Indifferent in, amidst a murder of
Rooks--spectral and callous teamed--
Ether she is there, absent,
Yet the steps walk down to the street.

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A Berman film depicts
A god of pain.
.
The babe's name is milk.
And strawberries
In a rude god-given bowl.
.
And an instant of peace
With human glances exchanged
Turns god-like to death.
.
There it is done, a final
Reverent contemptuous exhalation.

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I took a soporific, as a gesture--
The bed was pale in the Greek light, slatted
Sheets shadowed thus:
An imagined blue.
Pale steps morned with dew
And a pallid sensorium.
The table and chair.
The edge of shaken conceit
Framing slap-dark American 16:9
Necessitating assumption.
==

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