The pistol is on the desk;
the dog tilts her head;
someone is at the door
and it isn't her master

A car passes,
and the street lamps
light it up like
a torch;

it rumbles past
the house, and a
window is shut

The feet of darkness
press upon the floor;
dogs can be heard in the
distance; their masters
asleep, dreaming
the American dream;

their children
in love with
the children of others

A television hums
a late night lullaby;

and the fans
sway back and forth
hissing at the callous
feet of laborers

A loud noise cuts
the day in half

Now the moon peeks
above a cloud
to investigate the sound

Much like the animals,

it's indifferent to the violence
and virtues of others

but that doesn't stop anyone

from waking up;

be it from a headache,

or another

broken heart.