At the border of light & shadow
approach
this day's sun's first screaming beams
cast on a brick wall.
Circadianly,
they slip
up, then down;
sunset, sunrise.

Flying vampire mosquitos
and ugly butterfly moths
clamour tight to last night's light poles.
Alleycats and the parasitically-fearless
brains of alleyway rats
trade Toxoplasma Gondii,
Mmmy crusty key's desperate search pokes
through the miserable corner of a powderless bag.

In 6 hours,
the lass living above
will fertilize
fire escape roses,
with rotted produce, and
used coffee grinds, and
some sort of
ecologically sanctioned animal ****.

And here I sit,

Lattishly lauding foul-spit words
at silently rising light
at this day's sun
hauntingly sauntering up
the Tropic of Cancer's spine,

sobering & sobbing in a shaded chateaux,
waiting for dawn's leering light to detonate night.

And I
a smiling fool
a shining mood disorder…

Shadows sneering back at streetlamps
remind me:
everyone suffers sadness, often alone,
yet together, all moans ohm as one,
shining our shadows back into the sun.

Toxoplasma Gondii,
The mating dance of alleyway parasites,
driving the heads of rats to the teeth of cats,
while morning light cures night,
and,
in my disdain
for shade-screaming sunlight,

I'm reminded:

so many sad things
infect us as
endlessly
echoing
lists

that convince us,
'happiness
no longer exists';

yet,
in all this,

roses

persist.


Erik Svarr
07:13 Mar 20, 2018  &
23:10 May 10,  2018
San Francisco, Ca.