Monday, October 16, 2006

Warm Evenings.

By the white horse chestnut candles
spiders weave their evening traps,
to wrap the wings
of moon drowsed moths.

Downtown bars spill light
and people out onto the street;
dancing spiders tongue-weave traps
of drunk deceit
for perfumed, drink drowsed moths
that flutter round the neon-lights of clubs,
or in the karaoke pubs, among the lasers
and the fights
on bad tempered late-spring nights:
overdressed rehearsals for the summer.

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