Salt Monument

May’s water is breaking
but the months aren’t counted here
where markers lisp below
an aquamarine draped window’s vigil.

The gravestone display yard of Salt Monument
(Lake) burned-
out-in-the-middle of the sign
in a wounded neon’s sarcasm
causes me to pause a nocturnal wandering.

Here remorseless putty-hued
and desert rose markers
are granite molars
under a street lamp’s vernal cheek
still in a quandary from the quarry
relegated to a show-pony status
unable to commemorate.

A woman’s song
drifts through it all
in vitreous harmotome
from a living room
somewhere down the hill
to the magnetic gravity
of this corner
taking up the short hours
shaking off the pull.

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