Impossible angel

[RiverNotch]

Impossible angel

Beer and cigarettes
and you, your languid locks,
are always in my world of drunken walks
through Barbican and Bishopsgate,
in the moonbeam shallows
of walls spattered with poetry. "splattered with poetry". A succession of arresting images, and you end with surfaces splattered with, at best, cum-mingled piss, and at worst, random abstract thoughts. Or, what, graffiti? But graffiti is very rarely poetry -- poetic, sure, but not poetry. At least, not in the language you establish the poem with. 

Thursday nights your longing is a sea At some readings of mine, I confuse "your" with a badly stated "my", but for that mistake, I blame myself. Either "a sea crossing" or "a sea[,] crossing" -- both meanings work well, I think, until later on. But I would not suggest changing this.
crossing through hours of drunkenness.
Mindful glances in the mermaid shadows
turn not to me. The use of sonics throughout the poem is very enchanting -- wavelike, joining the thoughts and images in conjuring up the nearby water. Although I don't know enough about "Barbican and Bishopsgate" -- presumably the areas in London -- to get to the fullest how this ocean truly connects, other than the usual drifting metropolis schtick.

Impossible angel
that runs not to me. Although I approve of this line -- at this point, the righteous blending of the dark ecstasies of PJ Harvey's "Stories of the City, Stories of the Sea" and the quietly longing sounds of Getz/Gilberto's "Getz/Gilberto" (specifically "The Girl from Ipanema", which shares the same pain) is crystallized -- I do not approve of the title. It leans too close to the cheesy, to Madonna's "Like a Virgin" (specifically "Angel").

But runs to the deep sea's emptiness But here's an alteration: comma, instead of period. The fact that this currently-a-fragment was separated made me second guess, and not in a good way.
in the white frothed wave that follows I do think also that it is at this point that the "sea crossing" thing fails, not because sea itself is repeated (especially since, to my scholarly mind, "sea" and "deep sea" are two different things), but because the ambiguity is multiplied. The "you", whom henceforth I shall refer to as a she, runs to the deep sea's emptiness -- but what exactly is the sea that contains it? It could be her longing in stanza two, sure, but again, those two lines were constructed ambiguously, and to take that away would be to remove a certain ebullience (as sea crossing by itself reveals nothing). As noted before, however, the issue I think should be corrected here, and not in that earlier stanza.
the moon's pale lamp of loneliness Real issues concerning repetition, I think, are the fact that the word "drunken" is repeated twice, even though the very first line and the general looney-ness of the poem establishes that mood, and that moonlight is used twice, but in ways not sufficiently different to truly inform each other. "hours of drunkenness" does feel a little easy, whereas "drunken walks" feels necessary, making perfectly clear the true role of the first line; and though "moonbeam shallows" feels also somewhat lazy, the later echo of "mermaid shadows" makes it indispensable, while "moon's pale lamp of loneliness", though integral to the poem, doesn't necessarily make it indispensable, as it feels (not quite sure in this case, though) equally close to ease, and the "moon" could be substituted for something equally close to the setting, like, say, an actual lamp.
that burns not for me.
But yes, good work -- reminds me not just of the poem Prufrock, but also the book in which it was first contained.