The Gay Traveller

   Who knows if we die 
   the traveller sighs
lowering the lid of a round casserole
	cause if the grape vine
	warns the boatman spry
then I need not worry about the world at all

	Tin drips melancholic 
	along the well-trampled sidewalk
	rains blow in this boutique
	open to the desolate wind's shock

	I don't think that
	the great sigh of death
will come with red velveteen arms to embrace me
	we ever live at
	this lack of tact
such a crude reminder which moves all things down here

	Everywhere the night's lit up
	and in sewers lightning flashes
	yes it's clarity blowing up
	how at the end one believes

   Who knows if we die 
   the traveller sighs
lowering the lid of a round casserole
	cause if the grape vine
	warns the boatman spry
then I need not worry about the world at all