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Resonance and pools of Starlight
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Bad poetry noisy streets drain inward
as a soft stream, goopey chunks of traffic mixed within
the apartment is so wet
and tight. The walls breathe in the opiates
deciding to open, or to close.
neon is common outside of earth down here
the phosphorescence is mostly algae and confused auroras
all the filaments don’t really stand out
too well. At least we’re a bit brighter
than asteroids, usually. Someday one might pour in
with the hum of car tires and conversation.
This alphabet is so heavy
with sounds like “automobile”
and “rush” and “nigger.” I still much prefer
the monologue of an engine
to all that
caterwauling. A shivering street fills me
as I were an empty glass. Mostly it is
with intoxicating things and beauties
flickering horrors and legs
and on some nights
with a sober gaze.
