My My My Dear

This haunted place, I keep a room A pied-à-terre, a pharaoh's tomb The cantos of my New York years A scribe in ink that disappears The autumn leaves that store The glow of summer then Invite the snow It's five o'clock, the sky is dark The blinds are drawn The dogs all bark The bending pitch of siren choir The cries to find A crime, a fire The seeds of hope I throw across the sea Are kissed before they're tossed Into the world like random prayers To gods who don't exist or care But some find soil and grow and bloom In fields I find when I've consumed Too many beers and gotten lost I speak your name when they are tossed My, my, my dear, you've scoured the trash for flowers and sparks That hide in ash And walk them through the city walls past parking lots Graveyards and malls Where roads of dirt are stacked with stones, like skulls that bind the catacombs Arranged into a shelter shade To lay, low in When we've escaped Like Proserpina's gift of rain Wringing the sticks Out of her mane