let me float in my lover's arms,
sure, what harm in it, to fox trot
down lovers lane, no harm indeed,
if honestly meant, that kiss (or two)
in the twilight, beneath electric
lights wired and rewired patiently
(I just knew you would kiss like that,
as the sky was riven in two)
from mid-century on
and the city would be a fine place,
if they would ever finish building it....
the sun rising and setting on the
gatekeepers with their coffee and
meetings and profit and loss statements,
the price of paper and ink, the
printer in Pennsylvania, then Vermont,
then India, now China...
how soon before we are all remaindered?
and still she floats in her lover's
arms, the lucky coin in her shoe
thinsilver, under her heel