Carpe noctem

A street away a street-play played; 
I've forgot the residue of yesterday.

The smoke of controversy hung
On the windowpane to spell out
The rigor mortis of my animousity. 
With stiff-white fingers they picked 
Berries and bones with mayonnaise. 
I was tired 
(Enough to call it a late night), and yet 
Those restless raindrops, 
With urban pollution contained, 
Magnified to absolve the ancient burden.

A street away a street-play played; 
I've forgot the residue of yesterday.

My curiosity urged my eyes to peer down 
From the third floor of this petit birdcage—
To search, like dead fish-eyes glancing 
Through thick fishbowl—until
A sudden splash of superstructure 
Collapsing from the sky—fireworks! 
At this hour? 
Was there (something worthy 
Of such) celebration?

A street away a street-play played; 
I've forgot the residue of yesterday.

High-pitched cries and cymbals clanked
With drums damning the sleepy shadows—
(How their feet stomped the stage!)—
City bodies turned and flipped on bed. 
They entangled their cold feet. 
They pretended to be asleep, 
But sleepless yarns bound on top of their pillows
Until they got up, like cats, 
Pawing for a cup of tea.

A street away a street-play played; 
I've forgot the residue of yesterday. 
The night was spent at ten o'clock
(They came back at eleven to take down the stage), 
And the city—
It was left to decay.

Dale Chou
2001-06-24