Untitled, by E.D. Kain
________________
the soft dark of the street
and someone playing Doors covers
loud across the hushed-blue
night.
i remember a sky of pinwheeling
stars, nightflowers blooming,
air and earth.
cold asphalt and bass guitar.
warm beer and a cigarette.
a woman’s voice singing
five to one, baby, one in five
noone get’s out of here
alive. if i could replace
this tangle of thoughts and wires
with a warm glow
i’d burn my burdened self
to the ground.
