Flashing Lights
Fluorescent is the hollow night.
The darker notes of one's short time
Will ask you to deny your wants,
Believing will not do you right.
Blue shards run in our summer stay,
Down landlines on high tower rails,
Your glimmer will those street thieves flay,
Flesh eaten by a flower bed.
Enough or not enough to do,
It surges all from sewer pools.
These players that don't stand to lose
Are giving me a stained-glass look.
A gate was due today for us,
Concrete walls have not yet dried off,
And kids have their old seating rows
Collecting pints of dyed black blood.
My name has not been heard of still,
The records all ignore my will,
And rotting, a desire I keep,
Has welcomed those they mention dear.
I walk long strides, eyes back on steps,
Electric cries from glacial sweat
That teeth and skin it forced to bear.
The sky is bright; below we play.
And lastly clear, for once not ragged
To glance at life from windowed flasks.
What matters most ain't earned but grabbed
By brave hands not ashamed to fall.
Sun, fairly coy, awoken dawn
It shines more than myopic lamps
The dusk has called its foggy stars.
It shines that soft, and yet not quite.
04/17/2023
