thursday, november 15

the fifteenth of november
and a crazy wind has brought down
some bastard child of a warm front
two nights ago i sat in the car and
watched tiny pellets of almost-snow
hit the windshield

tonight i'm standing in my shirtsleeves
on the upstairs deck at twilight street
with a bottle and a pack of spirits
poor substitutes for anyone who gives
a damn but the attention
they demand is uncomplicated

across the valley a band of city
lights pulses in the
lense of intervening air

downstairs i've been painting,
in exchange for a few days room
and board. in a way you'd hardly
recognize the rooms we shared here for
two years — fitting, i guess
you can hardly recognize the people
who shared them.