poem from the end of '09

Shaving my neck
I don't have patience for people who don't
have me
Remember the lights banners strung
cross that commercial thoroughfare in Istanbul,
the fabric's joy in being stretched and hung, pride in display
smell of well-coiffed leather, proud locks tossed
+ the Bosphorus, still
it slaps against the docks
unremittingly
relentless sucking carbon from the wood.


(12.2.8.09)