in rooms
men smoke
skin and bone
Jesus measures the cracks
They limp down iron steps
past garbage
look west east
dress up
Footfalls jar the track
vines trip
This transept must be cut
from shoulders
no neon no stage
Within midnight
the flicker of one kerosene lamp
~ ~ ~
I've seen nomads in the desert
who'll cut you down
like cactus
for water
and crooks and the mad
who'll try your door to open
and steal your eyes
put smoke in your brain
break you like charred paper
and you cry out to the sky
to please, this time,
don't let it just be me
You look to the eyes of strangers
Chattering children play
share their sweets
Will they smell the blood