A Walk at Night
The moon has swelled
to an unbearable orange
and will soon give birth to its own
inimitable nightmares,
shop windows are as dark
as the insides of a jail cell,
the street lamps flicker and
wage their unequal battle with
the darkness, while I walk and
the street unfolds under my feet
its dark narrative. It's nice like this –
with a bottle in my hand, thoughtless,
tired and disgusted by another
ordinary day.
The machinery of the night
disperses the darkness into juicy
pieces inside my heart
and I walk and think of this
fate, of this woman, of this night.
Soon the sky begins to lighten.
I buy a cup of coffee from a man
who is fatter than its booth.
The sky is now painfully blue.
By the school fence shiny teenage
girls send the smoke from their slim
cigarettes up into the clouds.
I've been feeling awful lately
and when the first streetcar
rattles merrily past me,
my heart falls to the pavement
- a stone.
Author: Peycho Kanev
Photo: Adam Borkowski on Unsplash
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