July 9, 2021

What Address Is

Is there still life to be lived in six?

The problem in what goes back goes forth

As empty clubs lead us to lonely singers.

Italian would surely drift in at this point

If not earlier, if not the time of day

When the sun is slanting and the canals are aging

If not the weight of this life or its habits

Or the asymmetrical beneath all these symptoms.

It is the Great Uneven that brings me here

Again and again brings me to you

Leaving equations and details and derivative behind

Because before every road there was a path and before every path there was dust.

You have boots and I have boots, and we have the sun.

We’ll keep making sense just long enough.