Lines and lights


each other.

Outside I hear a running leaf pronounce someone man and wife,

then run away before the explosions.

The buildings groan in death throes

and money leaks out with termites,

a deformed child with the eyes of the devil

and the mania of a spurned woman.

A line zigzags through the parking lots

a light right on it

illuminating where it has been,

leaving a shadow where it will go.

The shadow sharpens his teeth.