Like

It's not so much

abstractions are available:

the lofty period of the mind

ending a sentence while the pain endures:

departures absences.

And you are still on the dock

the smoke hasn't cleared in The Narrows

At noon I sit in Jim's Place waiting for George

Who is mopping the stage up

While two girls cry in the last row.

I think they got laid last night.

But who didn't? it was a spring night.

Probably George did too.

And now the ship has gone

beyond come sheets windows streets telephones and noises:

to where I cannot go

not even a long distance swimmer like myself.