Semi-Drunken Walk Home from the Tote

- God! - on that holy
night I had the cold
ecstatic soul of an
old tree - the whole
brilliant dirty city
breathed through me
like a pipe - like a
lung - like the sweeping
swoop of scent reaming
from the sea when its
horizon has been
strung with boats
- God! - the air
was rapture rolling
through my throat - I
thought - Alive! Oh God!
I am alive! - and with
no pen I wrote the lines
in eyeliner on my beating
hand - waving it out
to dry as I walked
the holy land -