out the kitchen window
the late afternoon light
plays like a sax solo
against the building
across the way
cloud wisps
catch pink
as the sun hits
the horizon
the azure sky
goes darker
by degrees
evening comes
stealth and still
like a beautiful lover
passionate, intense
another night
lies ahead
awaiting the dawn
(D. James)
here’s where
we get to that part
of the night
closer to dawn
than dusk
when the cars
rubber by
less frequently
and your
eyelids
will not
cooperate
everyone else
is long down
nothing
but the hum
of the refrigerator
to keep you company
and that last car
rolling past your window
won’t be another till dawn
best to wait for it
under the covers
if you’re lucky
it’ll go by
unnoticed
if you’re not
it won’t
(D. James)
waiting
the night out
feeling
my way
in the dark
hoping
the morning
won’t come
this one time
keeping
the fantasy
of being with you
longer than just tonight
alive for one more hour
as light
lines
the horizon
I take
one last look
and like Eurydice
you vanish before my eyes
(D. James)
in the silence
before dawn
I breath in
the scent of skin
rub the nape
of your neck
run my hand
along
your waist
to the pale belly
you roll over
stare straight
into me
seeing
who I really am
not who I project
to keep the world
at bay
but who
I want to be
who I am
when it’s safe
you smile,
revealing
your true self
I don’t know
if you do that
with others
but to me
you are always
an open door
inviting me
to step through
and I’m curious
what, if anything,
I do for you
(D. James)
wanting
to burn
for another
feel
her missing
from the sheets
when she’s away
be
in the warmth
of a gaze
wake
in the silence
before sunrise
stare
at her body
lying in wait
get lost
in the smell
of her hair
pull
her to me
knowing
that’s always
what she wants
(D. James)
When the night
is over
and the final
cigarette
has been smoked
what will
the last poet
say
After all
the evoked emotion
failed relationships
dead boyfriends
abortions
abusive parents
drugs and alcohol
laughter
and pain
have been spilled
out
in some cases
artfully vomited
what could
this last poet
have to say
How to summarize
this night
these words
life sentences
bad grammar
poetic license
driven to excess
How to follow
the girl who told
of losing all her hair
the guy who
crashed his car
the gay biker
who longs
to be dominated
by a she-wolf
of the SS
the boy
who lost
his virginity
so late
the girl
who lost hers
so early
the words
of so many
who want change
yet stay
right where they are
What can this last
motherfucker
have to say
that can top the
triumphs
tragedies
surprises
sorrows
What will
the last poet
leave us with
as we file
out of this
basement grotto
into the light
of dawn
Do we expect
too much
as he steps to the microphone
the crowd
too drunk
to hush
even the white
of the spot light
seems a bit dingy
as he steps into it’s shaft
The last poet
will speak the
last poem
and we will leave
to sleep it off
Whatever he says
will be the final word
so our expectations
are far too high
The last poet
poor fucker
has nowhere to go
but down
unless he’s more genius
than genius itself
more brilliant
than all of us
The last poet
clears his throat
touches his lips
to the mic
the wait
has us spellbound
and half-hopeful
Even so
when we wake
in the afternoon
hungover and
full of piss
will we remember
any of this
(D. James)
this night passes
through me
like a black
knife
no way
around it
I must
stay up
’til dawn
breaks me
only then
will I fall
to sleep
(D. James)
black
of night
yellow
of heart
red
of soul
white
of the coming dawn
(D. James)
The half-moon laughs
as we tear up the road
screaming at the night
With nothing but chrome
and black gloss
we ride ’til dawn
Our piece of heaven
forged in hell
hanging with the
fallen angels
And when the sun rises
we’ll put another night
to rest
(D. James)
