Going on

Time is a brick falling.
Here we can make mad
love in the space it takes
to demolish    a wall
               a ceiling
               a floor

this city is the sound
of days gone to ground
all around the buildings
shudder down
and the cranes whirl shadows
over the park and a man on a
small tractor mowing circles
on a sloped lawn.

Three black cats dispute
the disturbance and here
inside     if I put my head
against your belly     I can
hear you going on
in your body     having
touched I know
the details of you
your construction
your steady outline against
the sky.