“Lights Manhattan”


their from
perpetually waving
twists, has the old scent
drifting, vesture of death
wrought lover, when desire
is night – away on harmonies
gleaning Christians in strange cells
wars, unknown appraising
far-flung biased arts, doubting man
wild sun immolation
ancients read parched glimmers
of our guestrooms
they stand in new
long beards of ivory
persuading us to escape
on greenish breaths they stammer
are their centuries done?
desire moves particles shimmering
jingles and jungles, curved, blind
dimmed with smooth heat
entering girls, sleepy jaws
their stones are biting stairways
droopiness, no effort, frustrated candles
in the night, frocks and hoarded smiles
candles wish they were stars
but cataclysms curse the westward gorgeous
not for us for free
so heads cry in lights
and stiffly, mumbling of points they spread
the crowd, interminable gold, each blurring
beat, shimmering the street, naked rugs
feeble flames, famous, in the sweaty
tip-toe squat
and litter hoarding

Copyright © 2012 by A.J. Kaufmann. All rights reserved.