Poetry

Damn of Consciousness

Lines in Pairs

up here, on the fifth floor
the ground is rusted canoes
of history brushing elbows
with a 21st century schizoid city
its metallic air freezes the tears
of soot running past
my window and I regard
the whole
thing slowly /these spatial facets
scaling the neon necklace of God
where the surface reflects
your face and it reminds me
in a blaze that maybe things
are looking
back at you

in this puddle
of Chopin cocaine sounds I consider
that the lights we see are just memories
of stars
and that isolation is two sided
if I am separate
from the ceiling
the ceiling is also separate from
me and I envy its ability
to just be

up here on the fifth floor
I have a guest this evening and I don’t know
what to tell him
about all this.