10pm
Get to a street where the houses aren’t too nice.
But nice still.
Park under the trees.
Turn to the Classical station. Lean the seat back and Turn off the engine.
Toss a rag
Or a pair of underwear
Or the work uniform
Over your eyes,
You would be more comfortable
out of your jeans
But
You don’t take them off.
You only duck when the cars drive by
“Christ,
when are these people gonna’ go to bed?!”
And the sky is purple,
And there’s a woman or
A man walking the dog.
You don’t see
Because you’re afraid
To be seen.
Put the cloth back over your eyes
And roll on your side.
Cross your feet under The steering wheel.
thinking
you’d better fall asleep
before the air
turns cold.