Conversations with you in my Sleep
I
It is a fucking carnival out here
I go out everyday and do my best not to die
Stormy weather in a summer town is bliss
'Cause all the cowards run inside
I would love to say it had been magnificent
But the sun rose again
And I ventured from savage roads out
into the air of their locomotive breaths
II
I know you by a charm faster than a spell
Fast asleep in my arms in last September's rain
But halt love, on the art a little
I am entering the farmer's market
and the chaos, you should see
It's hotter than hellfire
I am pedalling out from it, up on a hill, to a smoke
So it would burn my eyes
Burn them clean from the neon of their lives
III
In the old cemetery in Appolonia, the dead never rest
They held the candle when man's lust burned bright
to fight his brother in strife
When it was the damsel's birth right to be fooled around
These days it all depends upon lemongrass,
early chirping birds, and tourists flocking in
The siren is bleeding on the rocks,
down the port, silently
None of’em are listening
Sinister them, shallow-swimming fools, no one’s listening
But the dead in Appolonia
IV
Today I met a jet boat named Desire
Killing time on the docks, crimson like cherry wine
It's been telling me of the corrupted youth
That nothing has ever been the same
Since they tore down the funfair park
Where we made a pilgrimage each night
To bury our most desperate loves
Now we all have a lover waiting at the bar
They steal kisses from strangers for fun
But Desire says he's been dismissive lately
Of sand devils and kindred spirits
Says there is no illness as stubborn
as the pursuit of company
POEMS BY NIGHT 