
Romantic Dusk


The naturalized sky
does not fit in here,
stylizes himself after
the hapless fop in the café.
Before the sky signed up
with us,
I was like a firefly
in a jar with no lid—
except I was too stupid
to leave.
Before sky,
we had limitless
and endangered.
Now we have a cap
binding our angels
closer to us,
and selling our demons
into our authoritarian world.
Ether is just a dandy,
the accumulation of
blue, just garish.
He doesn’t belong here.
Everyone is looking
at him.
Crows circle my condo,
nest on the roof to taunt
the hawks.
The sweet vibrations of
a busy week well up
from the foundation.
My days are painted
with doors
over a base coat of darkness.
I take my sacred wishes
out to the trash.
Crows will collect them.
Hawks grab me on my way
back to home.