No Help for That | Jackie Clark

Navigating the grounds, I am advising layouts
with shotguns, searching between buildings on fire
& the sky filled with thousands of floating lights,

cleaning up after something muted & illiterate
while looking for a safe place to step. I send up
balloons with red-dotted messages, making

giant light sculptures that disappear from sight
even after the clouds have moved across the day,
which makes me forget that I had been frantically

backtracking random apartments & courtyards looking
for someone who could do more than just read my lips
but could also be deaf to my solitude just the same