Quiet Lakes

Today I cleaned the windows And found poison between the panes. Mercury tinted, from a long thermometer. I wonder if the site has spoiled me. Any other would feel the same. Instead of dancing, Getting drunk and throwing up, There are imaginists. Pure bred. Mutt-hungry. Filling it with Chinese food. Selling Cocaine on the street corner, sesame seeds and liquer between my teeth, Queen Anne dead on my chest. I like it here. I can read Korean And all sorts of symbols that appear on my wrists, Jewels, I live like royalty in the suburbs of the city. Quiet lakes. Slake my thirst. When I am on concrete, I cannot ask for my life. I smell of a lake. Blue through the nose And sour. The reeds have not been moving At all tonight. Mute. I take out, Drab and colorless, A secret from under the pond. My hands are deep. Here are the jewels, the murdered, the senseless, The secrets; they keep within them Their bodies, Arms and lungs. I want them. I forget them. Even they cannot kill my thirst.