Night Painting | Kostas Anagnopoulos
At this hour mind is all Night is a closed book You fit its dimensions This open book is awake Other books are dreaming Night on repeat Plenty of air to go around While time passes time by I'm no gentleman Or not the kind you would expect Not always agreeable Nightshade close to the root Daily intake of vegetables More darkness The tooth is still under the pillow I have some delirium for the moon Dropping low O It takes up the whole frame Even at this distance You let yourself fall Into it Visiting a dream moon But come right back Someone will find the universal plait With all the new consonants Unfamiliar mouths Shooting off all at once II. This is your stop They didn’t call it Someone keeps tying the same knot Around your neck Adding an amulet That dream you mentioned that got bunched up in the sheets— Was it repulsive? It's okay if you can’t remember Maybe nothing to do with you III. Semi-precious stones Spill out of your pockets Bouncing across the gymnasium floor You’ll need words for your pictures And music for the words Now come in out of the cold You've had enough You knew better Or you know it now There's no weather left IV. Then the wind smacked the tops of trees And the roofs just for fun Gutters wish day laborers well Give them bread English lessons Bless the sewers Backing up in their dreams Outside it's biblical Old Mr. Moran is out there propping up the young elms The city can't be bothered Some assholes backed their ford escort into another tree And took off Why isn't that a felony? Ann is catching up on her watching Lori is doing something musical In her studio Jesse looks for houses in the country for a dollar Carol sleeps on the floor (no pillow) Olympia has imagined a flying violin case We all meet in some place Plus Hellenistic philosophers on a trip to Egypt Getting it right because they’re dead These are facts not interpretations Dead guys don't need to speak up You’re on the wrong platform Cross over Now you’re cooking Is there a patron saint for bedbugs? A bright bunch What’s out there then again what isn't? Lugged it between Providence and NY Two bags of dust In an expensive backyard in Connecticut Many building blocks Stacked in the basement Get rid of them A voice concludes The word doesn’t get the attention it should What word? Basement The base hides for good reason The doting sun on the other hand is hit or miss At least for now Scram why don’t you V. Women struck by arrows Sebastianlike Crisp bed sheets draped over foliage One pretends while the other takes her own life Who knows why A pile of leaves Leaflets Floating on the Taconic They have power issues Some arrows are just for show The Sebastians move forward One full of life Another always angry She’ll be left behind until she’s loved Inescapable love You don’t want to miss out on her last breath Anger masked in pain is puzzling Why?