Ground Zero

In these empty streets
Fear adopts familiar forms
But why the terror at a lover’s shadow on the wall?

In shallow pools of yellow light
Blind night things swarm
We are told they will feed
On our remains
But you say
They are our remains.

These streets are the plan of the city
And in the city is reflected
Our minds’ own plan
Within which we familiarly wander
Tonight, however, we taste the charcoal sky
Impress the plaster and concrete
With its blasted stain.

How can it be said?
Today the telephone rang
I went to answer it
Expecting it was you
But someone removed the receiver
Inside my head
I reeled along a string of words
That ended in a pool of congealed letters
On the floor
I thrashed there
Like some saber-tooth upon whom it dawns
That nothing he knows
Is of use in the tarry pit.

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published.