a las dos, lluvia

by Jonathan Hartt

 

 

these streets have open palms

to thrust at our windows

when the light is red

but this town sleeps off all hope

for the drowning

que piden limosna

i am not one                 

but at least i see them   

al menos les miro

no?

in the sunken alleyway

bathed in shadow

el viejo  slumps against wet brick

grinning

his toothless defiance

so that  no one

can smell the fear

his hands  como cuero

are weathered and shake

as he lifts a paper bag to his gums

to forget

and he gets the placebo

de placer

all over himself

 

ahora mismo

the bedcovers are pulled back

 

esperan  for my return

to sleep’s underworld

 

esperan  for me to draw the curtains

on all city lights

 

escuche  they say

night has a depth we’ve seen it

fathoms beneath

the bright smile surface

of day