(after a recording by Sonny Rollins)

 These blues are steel gray, you ride them.  Jet trails

 diagonal a cobalt sky.  Silk wind

 whips hair across your cheek.

           Metal taste

 between your teeth drives you.



 Night drifts in with the honey scent of the viburnum.

 The saxophone implores.

           At the red light, the world's on fire.

 You climb, pressed into the curves of each turning.



 Come on oh come on oh come on baby please.

           From here every splintered pain

 finds you.

 Your body aches for miracles or sleep.

 Sun, like god's one eye on you, is rising.