on the ground

the ones on the mountain
split clouds
with arrows of purity

What of the Time
from Death to Birth?

on the sidewalk
I chant bus schedules

and try           (not hard enough)
to keep my thoughts to myself

I drink wine and sit on the grass
in the park           and when I’m drunk

the same old stray dog
comes up close and whispers,

Wait until no one is watching
and give away your last dollar bill.