Friday 6 November 2009

夜色

night is full

the night is full of poetry
there is an 18th-storey hole
or maybe it is 22
it proudly grows across the street
the night is full of poetry
i like the windows at the front
the big ones, and the frames are white
and all the rest is scaffolding
the night is full of poetry
i like it when the air grows cold
and when the city starts to calm
i like the lull between the cars
the night is full of poetry
there is an 18th-storey house
or maybe it is 22
across from us in our yard
i like it somehow, actually
the night is full of poetry
we are the night, the listening
we are the bus at intervals
where people often let us sit

MW October 2007

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