conversations, held, without touching
looking out above Newtown's shoulder
there was always a plane, rising gently
the tom tacks from parked car
to parked car, spraying our street
who was that girl! all in purple
skipping down our street with balloons trailing after her
grease lifts off the glass and swirls
under hot water
she felt sad and listened
to Beethoven
a fire engine sprang out of nowhere
the siren came on right on our doorstep
the evening is blue before it becomes black
cars file past us, 2 women and a little boy
he left me unfinished, talked of babies
but in the end was absent, wasn't he?
she showed me landscapes in chalk and i wanted one
desperately, wanted to take it, claw at it, eat it, wear it
the wall vibrated
beneath my foot
your hand shook, holding the dropper
you said you'd begun to place your hand on your belly
or was it the sunlight
on concrete?
the air burned with the sound
of metal pouring
it was worth the pollution to scoot past the bakery
and smell that delicious bread rising