Ron Silliman

Tra il dire e il fare
c'è di mezzo il mare
— Mario Savio

For Lyn & Leslie

                    A dream just before dawn is different
                    What I thought at first literally to have been a chicken crossing the road proved, upon examination, to be a spruce goose
                    The border between reverie and sleep, razor thin
                    He walked into the music store while I waited, but when he failed to re-emerge I entered only to find him gone

                    A tall girl, quite beautiful but for the buck teeth & receding chin
                    The eros of adrenalin and vice versa
                    Your ashes, no larger than a loaf of bread but several times the weight
                    When setting across Dogtown Commons, take a compass and tell someone your plans

                    Eight months may yield only a handful of pages but just possibly the right ones
                    Three enter the restaurant, taking care to set their black laptop cases down next to the wall away from the passing diners, table angled into a diamond configuration to seat four – the lone empty chair facing the aisle as the trio struggles to tip their oversized menus just right to catch the light
                    Cut strawberry stain upon the napkin, image of the tiniest kiss