Charcoal
In my brown leather bag:
some underwear and a white feather
I found along the pavement
on Sunset in Silverlake
when I was eleven. Sweet
Marianne playing
on the black plastic radio
in the tremendous muck and doom.
On the train to Versailles:
three girls from Basque
and the one
painting her short boy-like nails black.
Medicine and Magazines
Glitter of leaves near the gutter
at the Museum of Natural Tragedy.
Succulents, bougainvillea, the toilet
of our history.
California salve: the plum
like hum of death’s white music.
