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I spied the sedentary vessels
murmur in the bathroom, ghastly
in their gurgles, whispering, and at funerals
obfuscating, pay this
taxes in your finest black, in backyards eating
barbecue, loading down
their plastic cups with
maverick yellow beer.
In other yards were shaggy mutts
snapping jowls, electric, mauling
angles, rolling roughly, awesome
fanged attacks. Behind the last boundary,
(a whitish fence) the night was
poking down the sun, and the house
this fence surrounds is
the house of love, now an empty space
where my body emptied out
a word or two, before coming
through the night, alone, riding
this thin black bike.