Like Thin Wire Poem by L.B. Temuco

They did not notice the bespectacled man
sitting at a table near the window
Like thin wire
He sat angled against the light.
He was a city person
He liked to be able to see the pavement
There were sounds at the edge of his thinking
His face a dark smudge of disquiet
He inhaled letters from around him
and turned them into words
His body rose and sank under the tide of words
When he walked words slid this way and that
crashing into thoughts
foundering themselves on meaning
breaking the yellow window dreams
He made love to everything this way
In the Republic of His Soul
there were only ideas of emptiness and sadness
a long insistent trail of mucus in his head
He felt its constant stickiness
And its wet enduring beauty