ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
LOVE POEM
sh! the poet is sleeping
outside the police sirens
call to one another on the near and far streets
like the voices of his various desires
singing in competition with each other
and now one siren rises above them all
purer and more urgent more a part of this night
till the dogs too raise their voices
windows go clean
trees shake their heads
but he is sleeping and does not know
he is not even in his own dreams tonight
his body no longer belongs to him
for he has given it (all except
the little smile) to someone else
so sh! say nothing
for at the sound of your voice
even the breath between your teeth
he wakes