Almost Nightfall
City lovely in its concocted dream, there
Is nothing more separating the I & the you. On
The em dash of consciousness, we crossed
The fierce Rubicon together, we made
Sound and judgment defy phlebotomy. The
Human soul bonds, in all of their particulars,
The brazen highways bringing us forth, a
Sort of lake appeared out of this fog. Residue
Of a blackened life—don’t worry, the source
Is infinite—there will still be words when you
Wake up. You wake up. Tina Yothers had
An extreme makeover, and she looks good.
The city is now locked, but the country peers
Over our screens, which hold our faces in.
Plume: Issue #35 May 2014