On A Quiet Street by Gregory Corso

On a quiet street where the girls blossom, I once lay in the sun, between colors they wore. In the boughs of trees, the locust hummed, an emerald tail flickering among stranded thoughts.

When the sun was great, I was a kite dancer, wrapping the cherry trees, my musings caught a lover’s breath, who floated steady dancing across my mind, letting it all bet, the universe outside.

Clouds were only the spirits of old lovers resting upon my shoulders. Even fate, everything was worth it, a child lost, a quiet street, each touch a promise, kissing the shy air.

• Gregory Corso