A dripping faucet.
We held the seance firm,
Each portrait of ourselves askance.
Things once valued
Flapped vulgar off the brick
Thudding asses on the concrete
Reeking fat and infant cherubs,
skin red and smacking thick the concrete
In this angel's rain,
Leaking and porous,
Collecting at the low point,
And we sing the light reflected
When the lamp beside the bed goes out.
I've swelled this magic
I have forgotten to live.