Night Songs Poem 28 on Day 28

OK!   Here is poem 28 on day 28 of NaPoWriMo!  Was a tough one, but it is here.  Hooray! 


Night Songs                        Max Wolf Valerio 



                                                 NIGHT jets

                                                    are black ink                               

                                        tangled with hairspray


                                                                      CALL OUT  for divine

                                                  intervention       as human bombs spray

                                                                                          the metallic tight taste of 

                                                                      machine gun sweat          

                                                  and red and black stitches

                                   rotate the slow night



               as the last are wounded

               armed robbery lights up         orange  and feral

 seduction and fear expands                 streets fill with teenage runaways


                                   footsteps collapse


                                                  the final laughing     broadcasts




                                               whirlpools naked

                             voices escape                 flattened out to digital       



                                    steam from sidewalks   — night walking

                                                             translucent        and humming with wires  

                                        enclosed by circling





night time aura              burning rubber           rain forest  

          humidity         saturates a searing landscape of green and black cats


          midnight angels  suspended by discolored ropes to

                  white walls

                                         or fastened with iron chains to police

                            car sirens


bend these dreams             floating  behind

                                                             palm fronds and still shocked white orbs

                                                        stretching out over

                                                this  flaming       mega    nocturnal calliope



                                 all tape recordings are silent and

                                 thought hesitates  —


silence radiant with mathematical portals

the midnight air festooned with

                      night owls originating chance meetings with rabbinical scholars


by Max Wolf Valerio (C) April 28, 2012



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