Television glows
blue upon my skin.
My head lies on
the static of radio
and the electric
of the streetlights
blaring through my
window keeps me awake.
The red digits of
my alarm clock
grow less vibrant as
the grey sun stirs
to the accompaniment
of the jubilant birds
with their repetitive
song which hangs
like these vacant walls,
holding me.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
Television glows
blue upon my skin.
My head lies on
the static of radio
and the electric
of the streetlights
blaring through my
window keeps me awake.
The red digits of
my alarm clock
grow less vibrant as
the grey sun stirs
to the accompaniment
of the jubilant birds
with their repetitive
song which hangs
like these vacant walls,
holding me.
from Inertia: A Poetry Film Sequence and other Selected Poems
