Architecture and who do you want
to kiss?
Where is your hat, and where
can I say anything I want,
in order to
get it right? Not
a love poem but it is.
The Continent was slowly saturated
with the ancient wisdom
of the Greek’s anxieties,
Plato’s cave,
whilst Amerka listened backward
to the Iroquios
and stole a Constitution.
…It always seeps through
a little at least:
the Grandmothers’ whispers and
the Grandfathers’ songs.
Didn’t the Beats and Frank O’Hara
find their friends and yet
I’ve lost most of mine by now.
All those secrets untold.
The kiss and who
wants it and why.
That’s where my mind
is at.
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