Richard Luft
An
Empty Vessel
I
Paper
bags of cactus flowers -
these are the eyes behind the lids
Like
bees battered against an unseen window
we wandered in the dust-plumed wind
Only
to see sun-drenched tampon wrappers
scorched white and lifeless-
Like
when we were fifteen -
I was the wind
Now,
shutters open like corked wine,
And
aerosol explosions on open fires
are nothing more than raindrops
And
now I remember that only daydream is memory
II
Last
summer we thought about the water,
Watching
each bubble rise like fragments of dust
coughed across perfectly orange streets -
Dust
like tears that jump as shrill as sparks
from malfunctioning pylons-
In
the evenings was the smell of baking pavements
calmly cooling
