Just ahead in the almost empty street
two beggars, one without legs—
he’s carried on the other one’s back.
They stood—as on a midnight road an animal
stands blinded staring into the headlights—
for one moment before passing on
and scuttled across the street like boys
in a playground while the midday heat’s
myriad of clocks ticked in space.
Blue flowed past on the waters, flickering.
Black crept and shrank, stared from stone.
White blew up to a storm in the eyes.
When three o’clock was tramped under hooves
and darkness pounded in the wall of light
the city lay crawling at the sea’s door
gleaming in the vulture’s telescopic sight.