in glistening trees and
seas of gutters swelling.
Where is the night and the long street weaving?
Where I would sit in cafe windows waiting
for my lonesome love to come toward me swaying.
In rooms I've sat for hours. Wallowing
in rain. I've walked alone within the winding
of rain, and of cars, and of sad girls weeping
alone. On the road when bars close, wanting
the almost willowing girls
with lost thoughts wishing
the night's only long thought whisking them
out from neon red signs and out from under seas of rain.
By rain and signs of rain I have wandered and waited.
My eyes, on lines of streets
have woven and wondered.
My heart was left in beds, rain drenched and whistled.
Just as rain has been my tears , some wet fresh wish
kisses leaves, kisses the flood wet heart , tastes the whisper
of rain on the long street's
the willing angels down, mud weaned, water
weary, wet winged, reckless.