disco delight

the beauty of mechanics and mirrors











inside the rotunda at the tampa convention center
transfixed by the feel of water on marble
i look homeless. the conventioneers exit
and ignore me, hoping i will not ask them
for spare change. there is nothing
i want from them but their
absence. i think of the way
you miss the point, over and over.







and the way i do. fleeting
like nabokov's marriage
or jellyfish on a wave
the grip of stars, lost
to blind slippage. a camera
unfocused. a new beginning
wrested from the remnants of the last.