i.

In the nightless city pyramids of light
perspire between equinoxes, drops of fire
shouting at the same echo sparking new life
to pour out of souls’ closed windows denied our
          chorus before its afterglow can grow bright.

‘Perspire between equinoxes,’ drops of fire
entice dreamers, intoxicate sleep with white
to pour out of souls’ closed windows denied our
tongue’s touch, trembling with fright at the thought delight
          might not such a preposterous pyre ignite.

Milk-ivory tears recline under the nude
moons of eyes clothed in flesh, dye their depths wet with
lust enough to lift heavy lids, residue
of alcohol & ecstasy, alchemy if
          one wishes to call it something more polite.

Moons of eyes clothed in flesh dye their depths wet with
swooning swiftness, kick-in-the-teeth attitude
of alcohol & ecstasy, alchemy if
transmuting tenacity equates to truth
          those few lies we tell our Selves and believe might

                    ii.

undo what hubris cannot improve, that night
consumes whole the sun in order to become
full of what makes it brighter than all other
towns in respect of throwing down such wit none
          can fuck with this city whose shadows hit back.

Costumes hold the son in order that he stun
his audience already numbed too much by
clowns too obsessed with showing crowds touches dawn
herself dismisses as madness, torches bright
          what definitions of success he defies.

Not with a shout but a kiss, just by being
himself, betraying no secret even as
he Judases into view, lips announcing
loud, ‘Evening just walked in,’ proud as Morpheus
          bringing his drug to drag fantasies to life.

Himself betraying no secret even as
he distills his own obscene myth, mystifies
loud, ‘Evening just walked in,’ proud as Morpheus
would be, if feasting on the thoughts of the shy
          would rouse in them confidence enough to rise.