Night Terrors
Running down Chicago Ave barefoot brain buzzing hymns and static, neon crucifix blinking above a bodega, the gospel of smoke and piss, all-night diner flickering with ghosts of jukeboxes past—she laughs in her sleep, god I miss her already, dreaming of Congo drums, 3AM baptisms, ash on my tongue and wind in my coat, don’t stop now daddy-o the night’s still twitching, hot-wired and like a midnight freight scream.
And I’m sliding through the alleyways slick with memory, rats preaching sermons in sewer tongues, corner kids lighting firecrackers like prayers, like warnings, boom boom into the neon womb, and I see her face again in a puddle, split by ripples, gone—heartbeat skips like a jazz snare, I talk to god in beer breath and static, say forgive me for leaving, for loving, for running with my ghosts on leash, for every wrong turn that felt right under sodium lights, wind howling confessions through busted windows, baby I ain’t slept since Clinton.
Copyright ©
Josh Moore South Dakota
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