hot wednesday, your afternoon
tells nothing. cars seem to
vanish from all their parking lots.
i pour the light back outside
and turn my thick blinds away.
like guards they line up,
dense to serve their purpose.
the cat sings out his purr-hymn,
pawing at all my loose hairs.
a friend has said to me,
'i feel as if i've been
walking this whole life,
and i just want to sit down.'
i lean back into black
knowing and die for that
moment. and in it, lucid,
a stain, i stretch for ever -
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