Liquid Smoke

Apart from the fact of night
crashing down
& your own excuses the
rain drumming the streets each
raindrop inscribed w/a Latin phrase
(if it wants to fall that way it will
& in stereo)
when the spell is broken
& though you can’t see them
lost souls fly in V-formation
in a part of the sky
dreamed on either side of that
humming interference
the trees their branches full of voices
revving it up between Su Tung-p’o
& the notebooks of Shelley
all rain-spattered now
on a cold night in
Surf City