Wishing On Falling Stars

so silent tonight
the static vessel void
momentary remembrances
of faces in the night

smiling, soiled faces
spare change
so she can get laid
and I can get drunk?

wind-burned Harley faces
the Hell’s Angels are in town, boys
smoking cigarettes in empty doorways
red glint inhale in burned-out basements

drunk faces, happy faces
high and wearing hemp drawstrings
hip bags hang half-full
and cool blue flip flops slap and smack

the pavement creaks
under a heavy load of fallen stars
and Indians play cheap guitars
cheap tunes of three-string chords

but you must climb up to see it
the city sprawled out below
in motion, constant motion
the static hum of humanity

sitting Buddha-like on a steep slope
brilliant yellow in the sunlight
now pale and frail
against the golden glow below

picture of a city in motion
an aerial snapshot in black and gold
and above, nothing but darkness
and stars a million years old

but the bulbs burn NOW
and illuminate this present
flutter off and on, wink and blink
unsteady, inconstant, momentarily there

you must climb up to see it
the demarcated streets, muted streetlights
tracing sirens through the afterglow
taillight meet headlight turn

and there in the quiet
smelling bitter vomit on a gentle breeze
rising salty and stale from the streets below
I am alone in a sea of black capped in gold

the lights cluster unlike the stars
in floating ribbons of gold and blue
and suddenly I want to jump into that seething city
death is close on a dark hillside

feeling the daily grind
rock against gravel
the stumbling ascent
the hasty decline

you must climb up to see it
humanity’s soul
intangible, patternless, sprawling
scratched into the Earth

sitting in the darkness
silent and alone
with a sudden chill on my back
I saw a falling star