Thursday, January 5, 2017

Sailors Take Warning

I'll die before I noise-complain, the silence
is my enemy if I can't lock my door before
the bottle hits the street the click won't feel
so sweet, my god it's quiet here and I
hated my father
then for pulling me towards noise it felt
like worms my god I miss it now my god
the click my heart last night my god
I felt the warmth, the lock, at last,
and I, alone, in bed, behind
a door, and safe, perhaps
I heard a plane? Or someone yelled,
I hope, a car or horns the sound inside
the hive and I awoke, somehow
I never do, but did! And then
A moment, then, through mellow blinds
at 6 am a city almost, nearly one
a raging red, repressed no more
so soft and tense like all of us
in Queens arose and seeped above
the low brick homes and I
alone and safe, to see it

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