Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Chris Song - poem #6 - Midnight, Austin Road
Midnight, Austin Road
Midnight, few car lights. A late bus
has jumped the curb. Deep into
the Kowloon Park, so dark
the flicker of someone lighting
his cigarette. Perhaps so deep into
his thought, he’s not even conscious
that he’s smoking when he has
the last puff. Or so deep into
drugs, the night strikes sparks
from his fed-up day, so feeble
in the hollow park, like moonlight.
Midnight, a few strong lights
someone striking the iron
from the construction site
on the other side of the street.
The night has jumped the curb.
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O yeah!
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