I’m driving,
City lights ricochet
Off safety glass
Tall buildings bask
Mighty in their reflections
The night is a vacuum
Circulating boozy breaths
Through brisk winds
Hideous pockmarked planets
Ablaze and noxious look on.
Dreaming of astronauts and
Astronauts dream of them,
Asleep in onesies
Beneath mobiles
Away from the chatter
Away from the piercing
Lights.

I’m driving,
Down quiet,
Picketed streets,
Level and painted by
Numbers
Small cars, big garages.
“Perfect”.
The night is aging,
Her stars are dimmer now
Street lights make angels of insects
And hum to them.
Buildings are closed,
Streets are open,
Above all is still,
Below,
A grain of sand
Shifts,
And I head home.