gold's

three men in suits under a deli sign
talk business talk; notice

rich men go bald the same way poor men go bald
along the front ridge & crown

because i am mad
i will separate the river thames from
your shoulder pass

muffling the voice of adults,
the garbled rumble of whales

the male ones hunt in packs
for love

snore under water as floating device,
wake your baby sleep

listen to what the bus stop people say
with their coats on in preparation of winter
or all things coming.