WEBVTT

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Notes on the steps of
the San Diego bus depot.

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Across the street, America
is putting together

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another federal building.

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The Wisconsin horse looks
through the chain link fence.

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He turns and tells
me with his eyes.

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I discover Marge Piercy
in a poetry newspaper.

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Her thick sensual lips are
about to move upon the Earth.

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I wonder if her
dark eyes are always

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seeing beyond the
farthest ridge,

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her words slant into
me and resonate,

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and will echo for a long
time, for centuries maybe.

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I don't think the
sky will fall today,

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but I need a few
surprises badly.

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