Like Montgomery Clift

It's building.
This angst.
Thick black bile,
in heavy weather.

Avenues empty,
paths harden.
This heat haze,
can be grabbed.

I sit in profile.
Hopper honed.
Framed by skylight,
pin focused.

She enters.
A lead ball rolling.
Coffee buzzed,
amphetamine brewed.

I explain.
She listens.
In tongues,
as usual.

She grasps truth,
and gathers,
her thoughts.

I step away.
A shuffling boxer.
Arms aloft,
to the electric street.

Pink blossom snows,
from bowing trees.

I meander,
to a place in the sun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEuFNnJSIw8