Sunday, December 07, 2008

Brooklyn at Night

There might be the exceptional possibility
that something could go wrong with panic
that I was a thick pelted animal of some sort
the skin around my eyes was peeling
so the other animals ran from the room.
Now it's like living with a sad silent ghost
some of them jiggled with the standard pink share
I thought the floor was sagging from the weight of my books
of their mossy genitals and the fog around them
the swirl of traffic pushing the night around like a bully
from the smokehouse. They would eat themselves alive
there are things I'll never know until I do them
if they were afraid enough of what I could do.

2 Comments:

Anonymous GoJenny said...

Now, I must say that I do like this. My books have balls too. Oh, T-Huff-target-child, keep breathing.

10:48 PM  
Blogger Todd said...

Thanks Jenny--nice to see you here as always.

Love,
Todd!

10:28 PM  

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