IN A BAR

Besides poetry, what more can we talk about?

Besides existence, death, women and sex,

besides bright and sinuous forms, what more can we talk about?

Revolution is the tongue’s indulgence. Early spring night,

a few friends and I, smoke and conversation.

My gaze fixed on that rock star’s face.

Outside, cars stream past on the asphalt.

Glasses in our hands, no miracles.