Thursday, February 2, 2012

Raintown #6

pink gray indistinct morning thru blind’s
slats—black silhouetted fir &
light pole—the dozen birds roosting a-

long the wire—a heater’s white noise, a lemon
yellow wall clock’s delicate
tick—security lights casting orange

reflections on car windows—in my
dream in a white hallway you shocked me laughing
someone else’s laughter—

sounds like goodbye—a glove left be-
hind on the concrete walkway at Rose Quarter
caught in that waving gesture—hushed

whistle of a shower in the next apartment—
on the eaves of the building next door the
crow carves guttural “o” & “zero”

cawing into gray air as if the words
“one” “impossible” “isolation” con-
sisted of all plosive consonants—pink

fades to yellow gray—a silver car pulls
out—orange lights die down—this
morning: another thing that has broken 

Jack Hayes
© 2012


  1. Oh John, it's too early in the morning to make me feel this meloncholy sweetheart.

  2. Hi Mar: Well, sorry to bring you down! Thanks for stopping by tho.

  3. Oh wow! I need to spread this around and get some people to read it. They just don't know what they're missing!

  4. Very colorful, in a bleak sort of way...

    Or, very bleak, in a colorful sort of way.

    Either way...

    I love it.

    Think I need a lemon yellow wall clock...

    Can you really hear the people next door showering??

    You and I must have BOTH given up quiet country existences for neighborhood life...

  5. Hi Ginger: Ah, so you're a neighborhood gal now? Interesting. I've been very delinquent on visiting blogs, yours included. Tomorrow if I have half a brain (I have what is so far still amild cold), I'll definitely stop by Asleep in New York.

    I can hear the water running next door. The way the apartments are set up the bathrooms are next to each other. Did you see the pix of the new place--they're back in late November. Great to see you around ;-)


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