poet laureate of Azusa

 

the calm downward thrust or pull

thrusts downward and recalls

the pull of tides when they go backwards

out to sea from the banded shore

back over ankles of your feet where the little seashells

tickle all my fancy all the livelong day

what hey what ho go-go Tojo aieeeeeee

in the apple trees at midnight

in the leaves that tell their secrets

to the man of business

going his secret rounds

 

what is in his briefcase

who would ask would know

a sandwich and a sob story and a plan

a long-term plan that goes on and on and on

that the pen has written and goes out to write the lamps in

the street

one by one all night long until the dawn

creeps along the waterways with Fiberglas boats of white

rocking gently rocking

into the forenoon