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.