Gold Run

Time equals mood I measure one

spell of mood as I measure your one good eye

though I can't assume to know what is

your good eye both of mine are bad so bad

I almost went headlong into the J train stanchion

at Bushwick and Myrtle I was so sad then driving

round in the dark not knowing how depression

dulls the senses a mole in a Saab, subterranean,

my sight failing with the sigh of folding stanchion

a boxer drawn down to one knee wondering

for how long should one remain between both states

before some friendly umpire calls it