the sun chases them away
these men, these modern heroes
who nightly slay the city's monsters
and make less-than-decent tips.
mainstreet roars at shoppers & criminals
furniture and bead stores bite at their heels
and tear at their weighted pockets.
but giant barren windows in the center of it all
toss us from the sidewalk;
(we cross and walk next to the courthouse instead.)
it's day and everything is alive
but this castle.
machines in perfect motion with the nightlife
slouch now;
lay still and grey under a sheet of dust
under a veil of abandonment.
it feels stale around here:
the gaping, darkened booths,
the stationary hanging stained.glass lamps
sleep together now in peace.
[as if in death.]
at noon, i feel this place was deserted years ago.
blank tapestry & forgotten delicacies
how can she rest among the circus that surrounds us now?!
the street forgets it stands at all
until the late crowd swarms to pay her homage
when bright lights lull the exhausted shops to a well-deserved slumber.
and the heroes stretch and yawn only for a moment
before picking up their swords
(and choosing another record)
and setting the night back where it belongs:
here, in the heart of mainstreet.
home, james.
fairy tales.
december.
