The Sun Sets over Adley Street
My own silent prayer whips
at the clouds: bring me wonders,
I whisper, bring me riches
in the shapes of good friends.
The sky is an array of overlaps,
slick grey videos repeating
a story of faces, racing
to fade and reform, mist gods
watching me, cold and coiled
in their beards and winks.
As the sun gutters a shoal
of salmon ripples across
the roof of the road. Bring me
belief in my worth, I wish:
water worlds spatter the dust.
My own silent prayer whips
at the clouds: bring me wonders,
I whisper, bring me riches
in the shapes of good friends.
The sky is an array of overlaps,
slick grey videos repeating
a story of faces, racing
to fade and reform, mist gods
watching me, cold and coiled
in their beards and winks.
As the sun gutters a shoal
of salmon ripples across
the roof of the road. Bring me
belief in my worth, I wish:
water worlds spatter the dust.
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