FOUR PARK POEMS
APOCALYPSE CONFIDENTIAL
1. Mottled green with true gilded sheen these lease speak lofted above me, Their song they sing, their voices ring crying out new wet rhymes for spring — 2. A glance at the park strikes down my heart, sending me reeling with visions of love, Please, don’t turn away on this spring day, my quiet … FOUR PARK POEMS








