On Strings of Blue

for Bill Berkson

Was it tonight’s
flirtatious
remark or his
exquisite song-book
on stage?
My outside life
has turned itself in,
any opening
up at all
is no small feat
when romancing
the edge
of an echo
Smoke in the
dream and rest
in bed,
For all we
know
and I’ll
be seeing you,
Carnegie Hall
underground,
“More light please”
Bill Berkson
will read from
John Wieners
in my wooden
house across
the street (brown
with golden couch)
his sounding out
The Cut, “Not a woman
passed unloved, not
one eye filled
was addressed.”
His voice held
the cleanest
copy one
could find,
We scraped
syllables off
the same records,
It’s that old
feeling and
I’ve got it bad,
straight starlight
embarrassing
the big (night)
sky, cool air
unveiled by Bill