Six o'clock and the sky still there.
A little life at bay on the stairway,
a lesson in white with some red
added for conduct disorderly—
according to matrons and patrons.
No schoolbook says a piece of ice
can scrape and slit bloodlessly
through second-hand words we wear
regardless of tongue and tie.
Then how to speak languages fluently?
A tilt of the head to separate
the lung from all the colored marbles
in the mouth will cover your tracks,
blow dust in the courtyard.