Sidewalk children jumprope crying
on streets slick with sunlight taxis
call the name of God out loud
                      Dancing,
swinging angels across curbs deep with darkness,
inviting in heavy asphalt heat,
                      Howling,
                                 Laughing at the vanity of Man.

Inside sighing apartment towers,
the legs of lovers are laced
wih knots of humility
into Lesbian tableclohs for quiet grandmothers.
Pale blue veins wrap themselves
jagged around smooth skin,
Life metronomes,
pulsing rhythmic.
Hands slide across lips slide
                  across bellies slide
                           across necks slide
                                 across white lies sliding across the eyes
                                 of nighttime consolations.

Sidewalk children pull long hair tight,
tug taut flat foreheads to open their eyes,
prick thumbs with blood-love,
                      Dancing,
drawing circles with sticks in soft dirt,
breaking them wih sneakers,
                      Howling,
                                 Laughing at the vanity of Man.

Inside sighing apartment towers,
bedsheets shiver in naked curtain candlelight,
throwing the shapes of saints against yellowing walls
in the unspoken ecstacy of movement.
Plastic radios shudder, push tired melodies
into wine bottles slowly souring
with yesterday's promises of freeway flowers
and forevers.
Breasts settle into skin,
                hips sink into bed crevices,
                      eyes gather thick darkness,
                                 wombs weave red webs of loss
                                 into religious uncertainties.

Sidewalk children catalogue summer colours
for rain-drenched roof pigeons
on cloud-heavy, grit-grey days,
                      Dancing,
collecting hopscotch stones
on chalk-etched, cracking driveways,
                      Howling,
                                 Laughing at the vanity of Man.

Inside sighing aparment towers,
words are left unfinished on tongues,
as dreams in Winter haze,
fading into coldness, into Solstice,
into spring.
Thighs squeeze the warmth from the night,
let it drip rich, slip into neon memories,
and glisten in the flickering shadows of saints.
Soft fingers caress rounded elbows,
                  open windows to silence,
                         sink into moonlit valleys,
                                 tease the infinity of universes
                                 waiting for earthquakes.

Sidewalk children cradle the stars,
pull day into night into ubiquity,
balance on the edge of nothingness,
                      Dancing,
hold out thin hands
for lost salvation,
                      Howling,
                                 Laughing at the vanity of Man,

Calling the name of God out loud.

Inside sighing apartment towers,
expectations tense,shudder,
quake in the flutter of candle flame.
Legs and arms, tangled and tight,
stiffen and relax,
loosen the intricacy of stained lacework
kicked into crumpled piles,
unconsciously.
Cold winds slip through open windows,
              cold dreams slip through open hands,
                      cold eyes close,
                                 warm tears drip from slick caves,
                                 and echoed voices push against stiff air,

           Calling the name of God out loud.

Quiet grandmothers settle into Solstice
wrapped in fraying, stained lace,
as candles murder the shadows of saints,
fading,

Calling the name of God out loud,

           Dancing,
           Howling,

Laughing at the vanity of Man.

                                 SRH
                                 copyright 1996