Eve

leaning into the summer evening like
a slick coat of glowing oil,
sliding on skates in greased joy
coating shadows aged so
finely by the stubbled sidewalk
the man fading in sync with
the tired sun, growing dim in
the unmade blanket of deep noon
pallid overtures of escaped words
lost in blistered interruption,
the telephone wires and radio
stations. awkward conversations,
the childlike hunger of
lost hound eyes