Poem 289
Sparking trolley bus poles and new bright yellow livery obviously also sparked this …
( I like the evening dark and light of this, the meshed insect and human busy-ness and the macro-micro equivalence of grains of pollen and grains of people … )
From On High
Trolley buses at night windows lit are wasps ferrying through the dark air of a garden the roads bands of fragrance they follow brushing aromatic sparks off their antennae each stop a sexual detonation of light splintering its colour into a city of colour a spring suffocation these are just buses but filled with the yellow wasps are stamped in plus the same level business sense a one-second stand at each flower the lifting and putting down of grains