In a field of weeds blowing behind a Texaco station in Cheyenne, Wyoming
In a hallway outside the door of his dealer’s ex-wife where he knows she’s hiding with her grandfather’s Luger
On the pine-shadowed bank of the Merced River & beneath the blistering sunlight washing over Tuolumne Meadows
Watching the prairie falcons & minute pine siskins & the ending of someone’s love
Or in the old apartment off North Avenue the blood-sketched floor scattered with strangers’ works
Or in the one empty stall in the Plaza Hotel men’s room before the awards ceremony begins & lastly into
Those thin careful arms awaiting Icarus