Thursday, July 21, 2011

night is on my mind

the streets
sweat buckets now
its pores devoid of crisp and cool breeze
hours of humidity makes one
forget the day's borderline
but the night still calls
it sings
under sharp streetlamps
hooks nostrils
with a perfume of daisy petals, lamb's spread
and chilled beer
relief flies by
like cabs refusing to go uptown
and the stickiness you strove to deny
you now share with the floors of the second car
of the N train
but if the night can't sleep
with all of this heat
who are you to refuse
when it throws back the covers
and asks you to join in?


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