When the movie theatre closed
we decided to stay.
It was depressing, at first,

In Bible Class I stared at a colored print
Of Michelangelo's The Last Judgment.
I looked at the swirling bodies drawn up

Four easy hours from San Francisco, yes
The sitting mallards tip like steel-plate ducks;
Between them, clay-pipe fishes leap and pop

It is as if dawn pliantly compels
The city to relax to sounds and shapes,
To its diagonals and parallels

If there was breeze and open sky,
We raked each swath into a row;

They said she chose to go to him.
of her own volition. I know otherwise.

I am a word of one,

there were faults, ducts formed by the earth tearing
our cities apart. Out of this madness, a cry mounted

as if by name, cursed what sky lay just above Zo'ar,

Salt pillars are no obstacle and we
look forward on remorse. The present rain
of fire is man-made, and from a deader sea

He :     Deep in the cockerel’s golden heart
              I loosed my bolt.
              The clarion-bird lies mute