Socks were left in the footprints of wilderberry schnapps. 
I smiled aimlessly into the ten o'clock room. 
The bed was left un-made, books piled in front of the windowshade, 
And only refrigerators hummed in the Williamsport gloom. 

I erased myself from the wall. 

Poetry displayed on beige tile is an unattended circus show, 
So I moved it to the recycling bin to save for a rainy day. 
As worms establish permanent residency on pavement, 
Blank eyes stare where poetry was yesterday. 

I braced myself for the fall. 

Down home shifty eyes walk orange alleyways 
And no one obeys the stoplight by the Midway bar. 
Steel mills comprise the sunset down on Mary St., 
And there are never, ever any stars. 

Mountains and anger stand too tall. 

We lose each other in rooms with locked doors. 
Colors and imagery fade into painted concrete. 
We whisper like the ticking of mechanical fires, 
And dreams fall in the cracks where grass and sidewalk meet. 

Life is nothing at all. 

Chalk-line boundaries divide us from the past. 
Downtown lights blow out, things burn out fast. 
I smile listlessly into the ten o'clock day, 
Reminding myself that dust and anguish will grow 'til May. 

January 31st, 2002