Friday, July 15, 2011

Night Poem 071511

The window shakes
and a train passes and
the night boils with the sound of voices and with the
whip crack laughter of strangers and
with the ghosts of sunken nights
of murder and of
anxiety and of
loneliness and of
joy
and of the calm of sleep
and confusion

The Holloway road creaks under the weight
of so many welcomed bodies
and carries each calmly into the
waves of the sea of night

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