‘we Are Winos! ' Poem by Kevin Kiely

The broken window pane is a spider's web design
and the river that cools the almighty city
while you pour the medicine. ‘We are winos! '
You say, and we drink, mirrored in glass, water,
lakes and rivers…each silver drop of rain is

a spy-hole…all these journeys to your amber
lit city by night, each bridge a span of thought
moving like the train, moving away from and yet
towards, aligned as well as parallel to the iron gold

bridge over the river to you. I am approaching
across a field where a hovering jet seeks the start
of a runway between the coloured lights, circus
lights of the airport, or cats-eyes on the roadway
twinned eyes, bright until passed, each cat in weeping

drizzle beneath the lingerie of night, scented in mist
but there is no straight way forward, philosophies
telling such slant tales tie movement down

in one dimension, the finite seems like a random
design, fixed on canvas in oils, set in mosaic,
filmed and in the can.

Therefore I drink you
as the pious used to swallow a rose-window of saints.

You stop the world when it does not explain itself.
This is our vision: the one which saves beyond
the ATMs, shelved items, the robot-pumps
the empty plastic sandwich pyramids…

Whereas, you and I in secret
for keeps and goodness amidst
this conflagration, this devastation
begin to adore the chaos, passing through
and whether they believe us or not―

Do we care? No. We are winos
of the resurrected crocus, the mahogany
nest in a tree awaiting leaves. The sun
in each drop of rain, the cats-eyes
that leap up from the darkness
the night without fear