“Guileless Ship Along the Barge”

For though the broken ramparts,
and the reed tidies up her string,
the cost of a cool morning
the bankrupt,
like dining out,
waves crushing
this speed without a destiny
tends to loosen grips both impish
and mighty,
in thunderous applause
in rage that includes the edging
as if neighbors still could mean something
till the smoke still has risen,
the finality of your grave
the show is closing and about to begin,
you are and there,
you’re the breath rising along the ridge,
left to us and dying of thirst,
for at last our marathons,
at last our mimics in amber.