-sunrising- DRAFT

early summer morning

before the fierce motorcycles crack

a near fatal blow to the atmosphere,
the sun’s refreshed from a cool night’s sleep,

a dry heat radiating from its impossible face.

coffee's poured close to the brim
and I'm stepping cautiously foot over foot like Phillipe

between the buildings, determined

but cursing the edge.

then the bindings of the restless poets,
spines worn through years of inquisitions,
spines smooth-edged, newly acquired
or passed-over for reasons unknown but to me,

linger on row, an exposition, dry or drenched,
in either case pleading a case for themselves

and cursing the  decisions, I step cautiously around them