Night of the Dissertation 

I traveled late one night
to have  moral discourses
with a city bum
under city lights
in a back alley -
an alley of cobblestone
inside a cardboard box -
a mangy old cat was there
beside us;
a spark of instinct drove it away
It remained for the bum and I
to figure out
for ourselves
the defects of life.
And so, at our leisure
we learned to feel –
impatient of hunger
and thirsting for answers.
We were moralized,
stilled by the immense sky;
our eyes exchanged arrows -
arrows of insight
to one another.
We realized one thing –
We were on dry land.

The brick walls
engulfed us -
one brick upon the other,
a burden shared
right up to the rooftops.
The black, wrought-iron
fire escapes
everywhere cloned
against the dim haze
Hovering above us
the street lamps
(like Bishop’s crooks?)
shared the curbs
with the long-arm lamps,
their ornamental designs
lit the streets in elegance,
but too dimly
and subtle was their
glow.
Not a whisper,
the trolleys long gone,
only a remnant of
broken track left
embedded in a
hundred years of
disuse.
Yes, not a whisper,
not a breeze stirring
just us and
the haze
we two – with -
the street lamps
fire escapes
sooty windows
laundry hanging
from ropes, dangling -
dangling above us
in that alley,
that narrow alley.
Inanimate objects
came to life
all around us.
They were impious,
arrogant, defiant,
menacing, with
hubris – disturbing
and infuriating.
There was
no laughter
no noise
no sentiment
no thoughtless joy;
the city was still
waiting
waiting for the two of us
to come to
some conclusion.

June: 2006

Lost Beliefs

One from the other
          they left us;
Flew away in
          the morning
Like sweet birds
          out of their nests.
Will they come back
          again?

Will they come back
          at nightfall?
With Wisdom’s breath
          in their song?
As noon heats up the long
          summer days.

Life with upward lifting
And down-striking roots
Ripening the hard and
            bitter fruits
No shelter for these birds
             to seek.