The Evening Light Behind an Unlocked GateIf we could anticipate the sway as a music
drifting where we had favored to rest, allowing
our desires to graze unhobbled, untended—which
that afternoon had seemed uneasy, uncertain
about some ill-fitting new portent now included
in their locale. As an essence of being—inarticulate
dispute—as the child of an emigrant, or
the son of two beings traveling away from
those unremarkable brown hills always rising upon
the traveled horizon, moving toward that place
where a pact is made and duly broken with a few
virile statements of contempt voiced in a dusty bar,
we then sat for a long while and trained our eyes
on some women dancing in something-less-than panties
or less.
rdking