from conscience to
unconsciousness
to off; lights
hotel room ghost closets
or smashed bridal apparitions
full of unmitigated doom
everyone's asleep
in the tall towers
above
below
in the traffic
the din
the boom
Can belts Pnoom
the way the cars
scratch and melt in to day
clawing their way across the wasteland
of dead dinosaurs
crushed into metaphor
silver waves surfing like trees
floating in the air
over a dead isle
the city is quiet
no fight left
in her warm shadows
the diamonds and the shimmering
sidewalks and the grit and
the piss.
what you worked for
gone in a instant
the moment
that we live for
the wind
the cinders
and the glitter
borne away on tides
and turned into glass
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