The street always follows the streetlight

the darkening lights of St. Antoin's cemetery swirl
line up
& crack
their
fogwhip
pockets

as the street always follows
the streetlight
& the needle always follows
the vein:
the vein
that wasn't there

I ate lunch at the padre's grave
lit up
the cemetery lamp
lit up
the havana
followed the lover's
silhouette
groan

threw the bastard
a sonnet
on his tombstone
the letters were gold
as his soul
was just
crow's clipped wing's
single
handclap

sang some German
nocturnes
w/ the fool moon piano
shuffled Nico
almost saw
her

& continued to brawl
until I could clearly see
swift pale atmosphere's
horses
arriving
& smell
them
very
near

while the padre at poker
w/ the silver-eyed
vampire
paid no attention
& continued
to lose

the St. Antoin's so lonely at dawn
as the dew forms
its puzzles
& the rare visitors
stare
at the stone
deaf
sirens
in hope for
comforting
answers

& then they find me
sprayed all over
the stone
breeding
sanctuary
snorin'
post
alcoholic
reviews