Lines and lights
antagonize
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.
Miniature Moon 