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30 WRnalecta 

by Clifford Green 

Of course a baby was growing out of our love 
how could that raging inferno escape my mind 

that constant back burner bitch 
agent of death/swiping a sickle 

through every half-formed thought 
cotton snowflakes/ riding the air 
to suede sneakers on my feet 

why did the wind whip along the granite of academia 
Of course the cigarette was shaking in my hand 

Of course the sun had painted the world in green leaves 
must she have sighed her love for me beneath the boughs 

her trust in sensual half moons 
fire and ice/waning into water 

and a baby! 
love of life/celebrating breath 
that painted lust on her ear 

how did my trembling tongue excite soft breasts 
Of course I wanted to arch her back with each thrust 

Of course it was raining in the Adirondacks 
would Mt. Marcy divide a drop on its rocky point 

one sliding to the Hudson 
determined/climbing the ladder 

of Maslow's hierarchy 
the other/dreaming the Hudson 
from a stagnating green pond 

would it viciously recycle in a cloud 
Of course rain infinitely times infinitely 


