take away the name & i know
i do not know this city

why do i aspire in vain
even to dream of another city

i walked the cobblestones, i spoke
with what i thought were denizens of the city

different pathways, tasks, circles:
we hardly live in the same city

as Graywyvern weaves through traffic
he imagines the future ruins of his city

Dallas errands, through Seattle weather
on top of all, i have to battle weather

he whispers poems in the coruscating night,
into the sudden window-rattle weather

these Chinese clothes, this coltan-hearted cell
twinge one's conscience mildly in chattel weather

a few charred skeletons guide the way · Graywyvern
sits in his car at a light, in prattle weather

the standing dead · and all the lights they bear
out there · beyond the dark glass

the standing dead · what parley have i more
who stare · through the dark silent glass

i stand as dead · and do not yet require
such star · in the night of dark glass

clepsydra of fog in the dog days
build my fane of slag in the dog days

what autumn remembers, itself fades
as Mongols disembogue on the dog days

a garden's belated provision
gars my spirit beg in the dog days

the cripple, the leper, the orphan--
parables not vague in these dog days

dapple-dawn-drawn hurls graywyvern with care
small weapons are real big in the dog days