Poet@Large archives 2013 The hot buttered sun we looked down - TopicsExpress

Poet@Large archives 2013 The hot buttered sun we looked down a twenty foot dip at a pretty acute angle, jungle grass at the banks of the canal. Bollards all up and down the gnarled neck of the seaway waters too shallow anymore to sleep the giant mastodonical cargo ships in these ancient berths (and so the abandoned bollards sit out there pocking the once swan-necked canal, taking the rain and sun as silent as slaves) we entertained the dare in riding our bikes down that slope like when we were nine and had the racing hearts of young cats middle age is a joy only when one encourages the tiny acts of madness that disturb the blood

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