a blue hour

sometimes the blood is loud enough
to hear over the left behind noise
of the street or a transistor radio
always shy of finding a frequency.
polarity changes during
the slow slide into darkness
and I am looking for things to do
with my fingers. cigarettes die
with a wasted breath of nicotine
and knuckles only pop once.
I give up when the stars begin to
fight through sodium vapour excess.
there is a nobility to twilight
or at least mercy. the squalid
emptiness filling with night




.