Holidays out of season
Rain has come and emptied the ancient streets Everywhere people rush to watch TV And chase the sun back as it retreats Wailing on the edge of reason As it is safe to say goodbye and This is the end of the season I wrote a postcard To the 'O so dear' And got back to white proto-vino Nature on the VHF channel That bored my senses and Closed my lids until it disappeared For the pattering to remain Maddening the vanished crowd Starring cross eyed out of a window Where the glass merges tears And rain in torrents drowns Lanes and alleys whispering please And we have no joy from hearing A repeated drumming withering nerves Frayed screams and forgotten dreams Stood on an imagined pier.