February 1
Crescent moon above the skyline so many offices with lights on, all night, still mostly empty vacant eyes and you can’t really see a city from inside but at the crest of the hill there’s songbirds and dawn
Crescent moon above the skyline so many offices with lights on, all night, still mostly empty vacant eyes and you can’t really see a city from inside but at the crest of the hill there’s songbirds and dawn
Such a still night. There’s the silent police light, blue cyclic, a car stopped on the tracks. I pass, catch phrases by surprise– I don’t care and should we try? This day has gone by in a thumb of pages, brisk breeze, alacrity. People siphon off down alleys. The city is never not bright– two tickers wrap around buildings– a strip club, and headlines. The theme is themes– the cycle repeats itself, among angular buildings, a ring. Meaning a call, or a promise– […]
Maybe it’s a lack of solid ground, afloat in a sea of glass and iron, but my tongue is growing sharper. Scaffolding and sterile girder, these do not unfurl, have no grace of life, just conceal so many empty rooms, like lidded eyes. The sky has a presentiment of coming weather, grows dull even as a crack of blue appears, but it’s just another space for lease, too toothless and meek to last for even […]
There are four chambers in the human heart, for blood at least– Yesterday on 9th they were tearing down some old apartments, one wall peeled off like a sardine tin with all the rooms exposed, seeming so small from down below. Maybe it takes something brutal to know these secret inner workings, and maybe it’s better not to know, just to own these uncertain steps, to admit to getting lost in my own home. Across […]
Waking to obvious rain. Like bright -hued children the construction men wait, dwarfed by and dampened at the site’s abyss. Something might be wrong, now, they collect and gather, staring down. Conjecture: a short but unknowable distance. A gull’s nervous warble, unseen. The stillness of the ginkgo tree. No wind. Someday it will grow to shade this view, to blatantly obscure, not by illusory degrees— I know what is unknowable, sometimes. All this slanting rain. […]