Man

Man
sitting splay-legged and filthy
beneath a plastic yellow play slide in Nagai Park,
you have all the signs
of a lengthy addiction
coming to this fruit of jittery-tension
and I can see all the cities
of your body singing
to by soothed.

What holds your bones together
inside your hard leather hide?
Is it your constant hum-talk and nodding
with this unseen panel of questioners?
Or is it your inaudible whisper
back into that
sibilant roar of dope?



by jerry gordon