Sunday, July 14, 2024

Midnight Prophecy

There is a party to the wages
Company to the copilot
There is a dreary moon dock
On the new apartment
In the neighborhood with
Ongoing and rising constructions
Why live so far out on this island,
She said. There is no anticipation
For nuclear stoves, or families
Of three. The weatherman
Will hold his place until morning
And away he twirls songs all
Bed’s glory will anticipate
The sea change of unions.
I once offered
to sell my dreams
to the Iranians
to the Chinese
or the Russians
in exchange for a wife
why did they
not take note upon the offer?