Well the whistle just blew, the conductors going to complain
Play the song, on the wall, come on pass me the ball


unknown

Marble Hill
-- By Sarah Hannah

You've missed the train—
The birds care nothing about it.
In the brush, in the eaves of rock
Yellow moths wink like paper.
You've missed the train,
A perfect miss; it snaked by slowly
As you stumbled down the steps from the subway overpass.
Starlings rattle in the brush.
A dayliner passes, puffing clouds in silence.
Maybe you should have married
That rock guitarist from Jersey.
There was a pleasant stillness then—
A home, yellow flutterings—
Which you cannot help considering, bound,
For another hour, to this stubborn plain
While the afternoon sun makes water of the air
And concrete, and in this heat
Edges blur between outcroppings:
Sooted cliffs, car mufflers, non-refundables.
You're getting older;
You're less able to contain your questions.

Is there any marble in this hill at all?


* In Pittsburgh? The Caribbean play Friday June 11 @ Brillobox, with Marriage Blanc and Delicious Pastries. 9:30pm.

--- Back Tuesday