8724. HERE'S THE ANGLE

HERE'S THE ANGLE
Hit and miss, the constellation grows.
It bears the crazy trademark of intention.
I'm sitting in Hendrick's Fountain,
a garden near Welsmere Grove. The
girl in the skirt brings me beer from
Belgium; some wrapped concoction too,
filled, she says, with some sort of cheese.
-
Lights resound and circle the balcony;
this glimmer'd asp of illumined night
will run circles around the day.
From where I sit, everything
appears in a bluish tint.