beautiful and the poor

on the platform 

we point lenses 

into air into light 

into darkness,

hunting rail 

and telephone lines, 

the lone buffalo 

and electric pole,

to fill spaces to catch eyes, 

to hold smiles

surrounding faces; 

we move 

with both feet 

to the rhythm of everywhere 

in the direction of emptiness; 

but running,

all the less,

to expanses, 

oceans 

and newness;

to quiet the taste of 

lost and restless

imprisoned,

at tongues end

when responding 

to the question 

are you happy. 

so spin it out,

literally, 

dance with our entire body, 

like i want to,

like you know better

underneath, 

an empty street, 

skyscraper,

prairie sky, 

at the immediately now, 

scream out, 

the undress me thoughts 

and the never be good enoughs, 

we cannot for christ’s sake 

empty my mind of;

and bathe 

so deep in humanness

eyes are merely hazel repentance, 

so that the beautiful and the poor 

no longer look like blue ribbons. 

may i not use the world 

but may i become 

useful to the world.