I like the way
people hold cigarettes
and dogs leaping over the grass and I like the way
unmoving photographs can move into your eye
a hand on encircled holidays
ashtrays with ashes with crushed sticks
or what about
the way people tip ashes into ashtrays?
or the way
people look after a sip of wine
a dog on his master’s lap
while his master watches a dog on tv
two glasses of tea, four grapefruit and a dog
or a dog, cigarettes, tea, four mangoes
what about impluse
what about sand
what about raised eyebrows
pouting mouth
wide cheeks where children jump on
like trampolines
foreheads, and everything lasts a lifetime
I like waking up beside him
a calligraphy in my bed
pictures of flowers
that would be perfect in colour
but become divine in black-and-white.
