Matinee in Winter

Rosewater mothball fish perfume what heaven is this am i dead

such ghosts as these beside me now one block up and one block down

the city peeks around and buzzes with my comrades late, in silk, asleep

and then at last the train. Outside the city limits and straight off into the sea.

Mothball candy tin of rose are you my age or older, much much older have I

been here so long to be like you I'm sitting on the curb a single cigarette unsmoked

white sneakers risky in the street it's summer and I look my age not yours, not yet,

who are you? I'm trying to explain the past 5 years and how to pull you back

from internet abyss are you my friend, young man, or just another woman

in the cinema with friends, for once, the gals, faint plastic scent of

rosewater mothball fish perfume our chance is gone it always was when I last saw

you I was young and walking through the park at night and drunk and warm and now