Prague

Along unending light there’s a
soft wall shake and we watch
from the deep blue carpet. I make
shapes with my hands. I make shapes
with my hands I make —

didn’t your son enjoy the show? I was
bending over backwards just so...
make an impression on
him, her, him
that’s it.
Well, you’ve got magic on
its heels for —

shapes with my hands.
but I fumble the lines
and the unending light
ended after all
it took was a nudge
of the switch taped open. The
unmarked one in the breaker
box where holy’s been all —

write is a circling. one stroke
of a brush. I’d sworn it was
my best yet.
One more dream, a real
one this time.
No chatter of paddle
boats on the river splitting —