There is an absence of light screaming around me It is the first of February the night crawling, an obituary Conspicuous and hung with death.
A blackout the local electric company has yet to be friendly I didn't mind The air was young and a tease Through the windows it approached Like a growing fire Closing in on my bare ribs Soothing my sore mind
Out on the receiving territory Comes the warm excess Like oranges hilted on wax It was sad claiming They wage brighter wars Than my soul But I inhaled their spirit For a quietness lived in their glow
Barks scrape against the summer dread Unable to shut their stubborness They connive with the crickets For a night of overture I can smell ambivalence In the starless skies Will it cry? Or will it die along as with everything?
I'd embrace the cold with My equally hostile arms It treats me with dignity From outside the cars screech Like a wailing woman Stalling the witch's eye With fragments of yellow and white Onto the oblivion of the roads And the loneliness of a night just Coming to life.