In every uprising there's an instant
when street corners look like movie sets and
the protesters feel self-conscious, like
extras in Ben-Hur. Just now

Reckless as a pack of wild dogs,
autumn leaves loosen and lodge
in the window bars. Each black-tipped

To begin with: I object to this line
of questioning. Custom holds that being

Meriting slight praise alongside frescoes
still beading with perspiration from the hand

Out after dark in what was left of the Combat Zone
we ate raw sushi next to Big Mo's Live Sex,

Over the tops of the lockers,
I hear a woman

You with a muse of your own
in the old gallery
that profile of grave beauty

Years have passed since you were in my city—
our city, then-and certain aspects of a certain day
remain with me like film in a goblet after wine.

I went to the liquor cabinet and filled my empty jar with a
bit of each, called it mayonnaise and began to sip, trying to
get caught for something other than this. My deeds are negligible
and death is strong. The rest comes easy.

On the pale morning I left town
I was thinking about women,
and later, in the Rockies where work was scarce,