Moths' wings brush my face. The moon hangs bloated in the sky. Glaring yellow streetlights flicker. The scent of dog urine hangs in the air. The night wraps around me like a dead man's hand clutching a coin. Slowly but surely the time of my life arrives. Is here.
Watch the men who march in file,
Uniform pattern like kitchen tiles.
Here they line up in a row.
knock them down in a single blow.
Dirt and sweat ingrain your skin,
Watch friends lives end again and again.
Walls of mud, ears filled with blood.
Bend down on your knees and pray for love.
Search the dark for a lost thing,
A box, a book, a silver ring.
How badly we wait for the touch of sun
From the breaking velvet we hide and run.
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