The Strange Hours Travelers Keep
The markets never rest Always they are somewhere in agitation Pork bellies, titanium, winter wheat Electromagnetic ether peppered with photons Treasure spewing from Unisys A-15 J mainframes Across the firmament Soundlessly among the thunderheads and passenger jets As they make their nightlong journeys Across the oceans and steppes Nebulae, incandescent frog spawn of information Trembling in the claw of Scorpio Not an instant, then shooting away Like an enormous cloud of starlings Garbage scows move slowly down the estuary The lights of the airport pulse in morning darkness Food trucks, propane, tortured hearts The reticent epistemologist parks Gets out, checks the curb, reparks Thunder of jets Peristalsis of great capitals How pretty in her tartan scarf Her ruminative frown Ambiguity and Reason Locked in a slow, ferocious tango Of if not, why not
From The Strange Hours Travelers Keep, published by Farrar, Straus & Giroux. Copyright © 2003 by August Kleinzahler. All rights reserved. Used with permission.
August Kleinzahler was born in Jersey City, New Jersey, in 1949.
Date Published: 2003-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/strange-hours-travelers-keep