Call few people enemies, Call fewer friends

Wakeful from empty and peering as i pass along the streets Late and summer held courts burning tallow bright Hold long against the night i hear scraps of philosophies and stories or legends of familiar rites I see eyes watching me watching form garage games of pool And hurry on to furrow till'd hills and stands of Eucalyptus and wait for apparitions for moments and then turn home Down the long roads skirting the city on which a white faun answers my hopes i was almost home when i the scarecrow speak