CACTUS AT NIGHT CITY

Night city skyline
in the elevated blue blur
of concrete pots

Stored, engorged
with succulence,
in empty space, like atoms

Like people
and ceramic goats
poised still
on impossible mountains

Like strips of southern blots
blotching the chromatic ether
polychrome black

Last night of the old city
new things rising
slowly like stars

Small things dying
on a windowsill
plants in beer bottles, hope

Lights out in towers 2 and 3
Someone burning the midnight
tungsten filament
looking up at redeyes

Leave me alone
in precarious refuge
in suicidal silhouette
sweet succulent

The promise was
you take care of me
and I take care of you

Power cuts and no stars
No moon in the night sky
No woman in the frame of light

No windows in the box of shadows
Curtain billows with hot August
in sulfur clouds 

A dark streak down