Saturday, January 18, 2020


Suddenly, clouds 
like bleak hands overhead, 
clenching and blowing on 
seismic saxophones,

knitting a million prickling holes 
in my fingers, toes, jawbone.

Mad crowds disperse
abruptly as bombs 
which are bursting in soundless 
outer space. 

I turn around, no memory now
of where I thought I was going.