The Hollow Heart

The sun swings
in the global sky yellow
yellow as the dawn

yellow as the dawn
my hollow heart escapes
from the wild garden
of your light-flushed skin
and beats against a traffic world
systolic
diastolic
systolic
diastolic
crying double the double cry
till there is nothing left of you

The sun swings
in the burning desert of streets
page 11 where flaming images
burst up
from walls and pavements
but still my hollow heart escapes
from you
fleeing by ragged roads
to the hills that bribe me
to forget your yellow body
which sears my flesh
with the brand of he who runs

The sun swings
pitilessly
in a global sky yellow
yellow as your hair
and the sunmetal of your loins
that touched the sun — and me.

Frederick Parmee.