After Dark

You walk out your house,
your dwelling, your
in-dwelling
think-stink
like a root, a tuber
at a sill, you wonder
at the wet
of the street
and look up.
It’s just finished
raining, the trees
are these sorry
umbrellas. They
don’t work. The tip
of a nose
catches a star.
There goes a cat,
slinking, you think
his name is Barnabas.
You think the blue sky
never looks as nice
as now, just after
a storm, your stone
street cobbled all dark.
You look up to the cuplike
infinite
glow of blue,
and think
it liberate us
because it’s
nobody’s eye.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s