May 1

May 1  2001
Eighty-eight

the photograph on the mall mug
sulphurs
a friend rockets his drink on the pacific side
spinning the glass and considering the near birthday
pesticide sprays into the city air and my father's image is on the mug
younger than I am now and I remember him taking me to the steamy center
the roughest place
all the people there
staying close to the bar
and I learn how to set my eyes
my pacific friend younger and my atlantic father dead
today we celebrate workers
and I crouch
the swirl of fast cars and deserts
great northern cities
peninsular swamps