TEL AVIV BEACH, WINTER ’74*

A crocodile-cloud swallowed a cloud-cloud.
Everything’s clogged
and where has the war gone?
The pier is painted yellow and red
and ‘TEL AVIV’ is written on it.
The drums of the deep don\'t care.
Slowly, dark forms in the sky
go mad.  A wrestling ring,  endless,
in slow-motion.
A crane erect over the Super-
Hilton.  And where’s the war gone?
A crocodile-cloud swallowed a cloud-cloud.
Where has the war gone?  Up in the depths
soft she-clouds and planes make love.
Air fills the lungs with laughter
and sharp salt.
The sun is a faded photo.
Shore birds peck greyly at the sand.
The muscles of the sea groan.
A solitary woman in a nylon
scarf.  What is she,
against a thunderstorm?
The trampoline is orange, too.
An old woman, her lips trying:
            he was such an angel
            he was such an angel

TEL AVIV BEACH, WINTER ’74*