SOMEHOW THIS DIDN’T SEEM LIKE THE CITY WE LOVED ANYMORE
The night unwound. A brilliant flashing
From the mouth, a moon in the crook
Of its arm. We walk the streets looking
For a warm place. There are lovely rooms
Just beyond the glass. From the street we can
See people smiling and are able to admire
The beauty of their garments. They seem to
Glow in the reflections from the silver and
Crystal. They show each other their bright
Weapons and slide the slim bullets into the chambers.
From here we cannot hear their laughter.
There are dreams sweeter than this one.
At least here I can hold you for a moment, never
Mind the wind. At least here I can trace the shape
Of your mouth with my finger and gaze into your
Face. It is as warm as the den of a fox. I push my nose
Into the hollow at the base of your neck and smell
The summer of you, honey in the wheat fields.
When the police got here we were leaning
On the window sill still looking at the ruckus
On the street. Nowadays no one wonders what
They are up to. Surely someone has done some
Wrong and deserves this kind of treatment. I
Watch shadows push shadows into cars full of circling
Red and blue lights. Someone says “Oh God” and then
Asks God’s mother for help. There are sounds I wouldn’t
Want to repeat in a poem. The street is awash with red
Weeping. The party lights shine on. I hold you
In my arms for the longer moment. We agree
Never to learn the words to these kinds of songs.