Trowled from tunneled black
the gaslamps’ veering blast
of changeable jade: the northbound
train echoes, stilled. Expelled
from iron stairwells crowds annex
this alien. She bends in rain
before the blackened gates
ribboned hair in gloria,
woman of the people. Lamplit,
some numen hurls with ash,
obscenely joyful: in context,
reverent betrayal of the workers’
paradise, copulating before the
shocked eyes of the dead.
Words terrorize blind passersby,
God’s name mispronounced,
a cigarette’s unmoist name,
Apolinare, and truth’s sly gentility.
She turns, rain’s epiphany,
unsteels briefly her eyes’ long hush,
of broken vowels and broken sound.