Agon

All afternoon the sun Squatted over me With the indifference Of a tired mongrel.

I couldn't get out From under, as if My legs were Impossible to lift.

Someone threw a line my way. I was a comedian, hoping To make it work out right.

The desire passed

The thin grey rug of dusk.

The church bells Shake out seven o'clock Like an empty sleeve.

I am watching my head Swim in a plastic bag.