Tuesday, August 16, 2005

HIDEOUT

my apartment has strangled the sunlight

faint sirens and whistles
dance through the brick, copper, and glass
of the cityscape outside my window

the cat rests under the desk
with one eye open,
and watches

for dogs

for pigeon blood

for a train
to the country

and I keep pinning
ribbons of text
to my swollen heart

while August crashes
and dies on the roof