The Pelican Poems [M.Z.D.]

We hold our dreams
   in lost dreams
and tear our hearts out
   over chance.

     "She carried the songs
       of  centuries"

and in her passing
my madness
passed.

          -For the waitress at Cafe
           Wilanowska. Warsaw. July 7, 1988




One forgets
that one is one.

I must try
to

remember this.

          - [illegible] Warsaw.
           July 9, 1988



With forgetful ease 
the forgotton tease
of shapeless days
pass by
   and I feel them hesitate
sometimes
   and whisper their concordance
of slight gestures in glass.

They are mine
   and drift still with the irregularity
of wine and doors
   in constructed mythologies
   of evening reflections
long since gone by?

          -For Johanna in Rome.
           August 14, 1988



Heavy, heavy blues
are absinthe for me
tonight.

   "It's the notes
and the black and white photographs
with tattered edges
that go together so well
--Don't you think so?--
with brass."

     "You're lost."
     "I know."
     "Again."
     "Again."

          -For Spiros and Tatiana                                              Greece. August 23, 1988



The ruminations are mine,
   let
      the world
         be yours.

          -For no one.
           Olympia. August 31, 1988