Jim Behrle


lightning's the room's
color.  our skins rainy.
arms asleep.

impossible to be close to her.

'everything about you
is blue and you have
drowned in it.'  eyes
leak rain.

     careful not to step
     off tracks

     I have come to break the windows.

     the night sees and
     lets the stones
     through anyway.

beneath Hancock
out of the storm
through booze kiss we.

the red needle
of the old Hancock
flashes, warns.

     one hazel eye
     peers from
     my target
     a window too
     high to hit.

     there aren't enough rocks.

not lovers
no reason
to be in the rain.
wet, feeling the hipbone -- closing in.

I don't resist.

     no sound
     as satisfying.
     glass loses
     form.  released.

     but I'm not really enjoying it.

the rain may not end.

     the noise of the break, the bad weather.
     immune to a love
     that comes from every direction.

on the rocks
by my apartment

a condom goes
on in the rain.
dawn, her back
is covered with

Boston 1999 Index