He was in Berkeley subordinate to a...

He was in Berkeley subordinate to an
umbrella of rain
watching a rolling ballgame
wearing a raincoat in the dried season
with no umbrella for shelter
because he ignored the weather
and his words lacked rain. His words
lacked orb of day They were birds
in search of each other,
like a pinball machine in action,
like spyglasses magnifying jests mere
suggestions of trust

He was in Berkeley making it real
among the shadowy, quick-moving statues
on their way to classes to listen to reprimands
by ghosts who had wasted hope
in the other Coming of Ghosts.
He was