xxxxxxv.

if you and a better heaven,
or a more interesting hell--

--then we should walk, in
the scree, along the tracks,

over them,

the grayed in grass, and the
paths silent, past

the benches, and the turnout
overlooks the freeway

down among
the streets,

when the moon is slivered,
a chunk of light,

and the houses are silent,
the streets fall

and twist, if you--and I
fall with them,