The Amazon

I'm just a charlatan-
you'll never know me.
I've just got te pavement;
the cold concrete,
under me.
In the dawn sky,
or the gold, nauseous night
so far from home,
still I can't say goodbye.
What's to control
in this world that is dying
when you're dying with it,
and I'm goin' too?
This tragedy, spun
'cross the old Amazon
that you spoke of in poetry,
read to a child.
How will you die, really
when the truth stands back, watching:
by violence, or illness
or terrible loneliness?
And shall I go with you?
What would you say then,
but that I'd still be running
from everything.