I want the night sky

03 Dec

———

I want the night sky

 

I don’t want a sunbeam for a wife

I want a night sky

above the dozing city

above the drowning drunks

above the savagery of a crowded bar on its last licks

above the spread legs of loose women

above the children smoking sherm on companionless staircases

above the all-night delis

above the broken dancers on dented platforms

above the sentimental lunacy of street preachers

above the posh cemeteries full of rainy ghosts colored in grainy sepia

above the empty ground still left at Potter’s Field

above the dirty alleyways that smell like love

above the spilled blood that tastes like metal

above the mistresses shared by the wealthy bored

above the lonely tendrils that choke the days

above the luminous eyes that always find me

I want that sky

dark and beautiful

with hopeful shades

like the baby blanket that she kept

I want that sky

to keep me whole

to keep me sacred for a while

I want that sky

I want the city’s dirge

the city’s canker sore

the city’s empathy

just a morsel of the city’s constant remorse

I want the city night

the night that breathes with fire

the night that knows I’m still around

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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