Curbside Dali

Sitting under the lamplight at midnight, breaking the mortared silence with the strike of a match. I have a pocket full of camels and a sky filled with large elephant like raindrops . the rain falls slowly through an asylum of orange lamplight. elephants and camels about me seem to sway crooked and cumbersome... like some Dali portrait upon the pavement. they breath and pause for a moment to stoop in their long legged prose. gathering to reflect in a puddle on the corner by someones words i had heard earlier that morning. In the leaves i will put them i think. Maybe the passing wind will do me this favor and carry them off, leaving no sense of direction or guilt. but like a good subject i sit very still for my portrait. to sail with lock and key through the shadowy chambers of solitude. waiting there holding night by the wrist I sit curbside.