Tie

Fingers clasp a wellspring
for the sake of words
ink on paper reminiscent

of Walter Trier illustrations.
Or you could jump the train

there you go in double-breasted
pinstripe suit, a Marcello
Mastroanni sort of chap
in mid-air, midlife
crisis one hand clapped

to biretta, the other flails
a glorious chafe of ballast
barking shins. Followed at the next inpoint

by the embankment's
grassy bottom return
of insect song and birds.
Marcello hobbles

into a cool
pine forest, and by a clear

stream in a sunny clearing loosens
his tie