the sum of broken parts (excerpt)

 

comes up for air at the end of september comes out

into the pure blue sunlight into the almost-warmth of

wildflowers and scorched back yards the indecision

of frightened children stolen bicycles news of a

thousand pointless deaths strangers and minor saints

this man who was his friend this poet these streets

moving from the cemetery to the river these sidewalks

marked with colored chalk with spray paint littered

with needles these needles filled with poison and the

poison tastes like sugar like sex like magic and he is

here in the last wide open field before the desert he

is alive and he is dying he is infinite is swimming

through the veins of someone else’s god is coming

up for into pure bliss into pure bliss into absolute

                                              joy and neverending

                                         sorrow and he is

                                             silent and he is

                                         singing and he is

               nowhere and so he is home