you know the story
how the narrative shifts
anticipates departure
like sealing wax
or the broken logic of punishment
the last train gone past
tears breaking towns into raindrop windows
turn up the music lace can be so cruel
and summer is really over
listen listen
this night is crying
strangers wait in an endless series of rooms
stalls in the flea market of being
reality is bound to nothing
but a chain-of-events history
everything is what you already know
handful of sand a farewell in stages
or a cautionary tale
you wear an old dress
name tag pinned to the collar
your pocketbook is full of gold stars
crows follow the woman you used to be
they will steal anything small and shiny
