Red Light
night’s degenerate eye,
stalker above undercarriages of dirty
thoughts.
do you see the worms stranded on the tar by rain?
those nightcrawlers that could have been lips?
in the vodkas of passenger seats,
in the lipstick smeared jugular tantrums,
amid the necking, sucking sex,
the sort of street drug
that tears the shell off a crab in the hiding heart;
pulls out its claws as if removing a splinter?
do you see
the intersection of satin on denim, crotches obvious,
the seduced, bitten lust, hostage to the daily mask,
as it feigns fakery as well?
do you hear the asphalt-burnt groans
that boil up off the urban griddle, at last, as last sighs?
yes, they wave farewell,
crooked fingers clung to warped floorboards,
and
those gutted prom roses on wilted chests,
and the sadness of teenage char.
maybe there, do you see it, half alive
for just a moment, is death
itself,
there, that outline of a skull,
pressed up under once-happy ovals,
to mock the failed expression, breaking through
to test the lie.
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