POEMS FOR NOONE  

Flow of Stories

Stories flow from many directions; that is,
going down one night to a moon flying by
and catching hell from the fisherman's wife
who had kissed the feet of Jesus.

And, then, the remarkable daylight
provoking the people forward in their strange
    and petty designs.

Now a boy, now a commander of nations.
Now a strappling, now a corporate executive
Now a sinner, now a saint in the avenues begging 
               forgiveness from old, frumpy women
silently passing by.

The story unfolds! The text of dreams surround a dimming figment
of moving reality; games begin, laughter between old enemies.

Dying memory sees the decisions of Presidents;
love making in houses, passages through bits of conversation in offices,
a man making a killing in the market

In the city square  old men rule passageways of light and ruin.