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What's New Logging Time: East by West - West by East After Rauschenberg: A Retrospective There’s A Street With No Name In A City You’ve Painted Black
The arms that wave from the windows are black
& the cats that roam the street are black & there are black beards
& black hands & black market toys & you’ve blackened
the windows & shut the eyes & you’ve locked my door &
painted a black X on my back & when they come to claim their prize
you feed them black bread & black beans & black rice & you
lift the heavy black iron pan & toss in your black mushrooms &
black butter & when I reach out to make you stop you drown me in the
black rain that falls from your thick red wound. |
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