Pausing in an Alley on a Bike

By Jules Alder

Because ntheon asked, so nicely
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

What a tweedy smile this night has,
a professor with something new to tell
Yet i keep my own backward counsel
and hie this bike alley-wards,
with soft thoughts in my rucksack

It will be Tuesday, then. I'd have forgotten,
but for garbage pails cloistered like Roman soldiers
while the politicians spill their alleged guts elsewhere

What fumbling leftovers of people, this
whose houses, fat with parties
swell this shopworn street
from a day-lit prune to a neon plum

Crepuscular rats have left traces of eiderdown
the tiny trampled feathers hang like tinsel
from exposed box springs,
giddy and trembling
like we were so once, pubescent
and young, young thugs on the make

You were very lovely then,
you know,
rising from the bed like lightning
to prove i never knew you,
but I remember all, all, all.

All but your voice in this stung moment,
before the absent traffic moves me along
and the garbage trucks come
to take you away again

Pausing in an Alley on a Bike

Created: Feb 05, 2010

Tags: poetry

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