night is always blessed with regret
and blake street is quiet
no traffic crashing into puddled potholes
steam vents breathing only smoky ghosts
alleys are quiet
storefronts are silent, sleep washing the windows
discarded newspapers are quiet
no wind pushing them into corners, no one mugging them for answers
horoscopes, weather reports, peace on earth
dumpsters are quiet, but thoughtful
a filthy history fermenting
lampshades, old sweaters, soup cans and beer bottles (bad novels)
((broken pencils))
plastic bags full of plastic scraps, soon dump trucks will come
take it all to rust farms
soon milk trucks will come
buses and trains will come
people will fill them with heavy shoes, warm coats, a shiny business
caffeine static, morning panic and small talk
sunrise will come
and any object that casts a shadow will feel it
all daydreams will seek it and eat it
apple raw
all visions, all missions
all real and doomed to live
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jalopy dreams 
“sunrise will come / and any object that casts a shadow will feel it” So good.
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I especially favor these bits:
“warm coats, a shiny business
caffeine static”
“sunrise will come
and any object that casts a shadow will feel it
all daydreams will seek it and eat it
apple raw”
That last part is so gorgeous, but I’m lobbing off the tragic vibe and just savoring the shared sunshine. 🙂
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lob off the ending at your own peril… you can’t catapult back to the beginning without it (night is always blessed with regret) breaking the cycle. to be human is to endeavor, and endeavor is to struggle, that’s what makes us both divine and tragic, we are doomed to it. so glad you enjoyed this shawna
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