Monday, 27 June 2011

Pt 3: City with late lights for the kids

eyes to the pavement
where I want to rest my inner ear
from the drumming tarmacadam chorus
and be blind to shop-lit concrete, porous
to the rainbow lasers in the beer,
bare feet on cement

even as I try to sleep,
as those in sleeping bags succeed,
I see both of you amongst the other kids,
holding on as though I somehow undid
the slab-cracks and tore the weeds,
tied them round feet
and neck.
On one side,
droplets of your blood
in a descending trail to basements,
impulses of light pierce releasing head-colours,
eyelids stammer and eyelashes flick each others,
unfocussed with fake contentment
and confusion stood
On the other,
in neon you found food
in my bins, and a bed on my bench.
Tonight you saw how I could lead you astray;
Huddled , you slept, so I hustled a doorway
of my own to sleep and change,
from one daily feud
to another.

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