at war with the night

something wants to come shake me down,

but I do not yet know it.

it is ok to feel,

I tell myself.

It is ok to feel because I have the courage

and bravery to endure.

tonight I wish there was a cricket

to keep me company,

but instead I hear a helicopter overhead. 

looking out the window I see warm amber lights.

always the same warm amber glow in apartment buildings, street lamps,

park benches, bus stops,

churches.

it's in the parking lot walking to your car after work,

it's in your car's glove box after shutting off the engine,

and then in the walkway to your apartment.

I'm awake watching

infinitely spinning electrons. 

alone with something that is killing me

that I do not yet understand.

I'm a peasent peon poet

swimming in quicksand.

absolved of my sins by the blood of christ,

all eternal entity,

entropy.

I remember moon glow,

all romantic moon glow in the arms of another.

it feels good at night on the beach,

or when you're curling smoke in front of a machine

writing this, to come shake down the blues

before they shake you down first.

it's a god-damned war with the light.
the devil can't win and a black hole
could swallow God whole.