Who were they?
In the fast maneuver
of a narrow lane
and courtyard
and basketball court
With their bobbing heads
And leather jackets
They grouped and dispersed
Chatting possibly
Looking cautious outward
Grouping and regrouping
Under an afternoon shadow.
In the dream, all was liquid
Sweater flowing into alley
Flowing into cigarette
Into breath
Into blood
Into bra.
I cut across the chase
Quite nicely,
burrowing through a classroom,
draped in a potbellied sari
and pigtail.
I had pigtails
And a pizza box
And sweaty palms
Eating newspaper
Hitting at phone-buttons.
They wouldn’t dial.
Because I couldn’t reach the receiver
Not tall enough.
Was it ringing.
They had regrouped
under a blot of twilight
in their yellow eyes
and bellbottoms.
They were gone now.
Wiped clean by a potbellied sari.


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