Let the telepathic kids go to the hill and transmit
Among themselves. All the signs of spring
Are downtown anyway, tulip tree and camellia
And at sunset a vortex of crows, hundreds of them
Spiral in, speaking like the Bee for the citizenry
As the shadows turn to dreams inside the houses
That never are, night lit, what they seemed.
Evangeline
Offers fitted ghosts for three stories of Halloween
Costumery, for the ghost hotels and liveries
Here among the homeless, including one that floats
On a riverboat, where a haunted wedding serves champagne
And conjures the Titanic in the Mark Twain salon.
It is here the galactic come, disguised as lightning,
Where we break Ramadan with cardamom coffee
Beside people whose third eyes
Have been Wednesdayed with ash - it goes on still
Despite the old ways only saved as paint on brick.
They play pool at the Masonic Temple, don't they?
