Late nights in a small city neighborhood on the bottom floor of a commune


I am a creature under duress
from the atmosphere
and from the biting vermin
and prowling wolves
and so forth
and we all are

Sometimes when I lay down at night
I hurt with no definition of terms;
an un-named throb or forgotten bruise
or a rash from the bite of a sneaking tick

Sometimes I am afraid that my ears
will never stop ringing.
Sometimes I rub my temples too hard
because even though it hurts now
I’m sure it will help in the end

Most nights, though, I breathe our
atmosphere, and relish in the duress
of it all

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s