Zywa
Slow circles
It's been all day like this
The people waiting behind
the rain-line take shelter
in bays on the sidewalk
along the Titanic Bar, no hope
of entrance nor of the end
of the long tears of rain
over the rough wall, the window
and the bars in front of the gaiety
inside, where I walk hand in hand
in slow circles around the band
over the black and the white
of tiles splashed with mud
Also contraclockwise and once
through the middle, non stop
looking at the singer, looking
if she looks back, without hope
that she will. Waiting
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