Atmosphere

Atmosphere

(black penny loafers have been known to click on marble staircases)

(girl) doesn't seem to understand that velvet red ribbons tying blue black hair in pigtails on the nape of her neck, and screaming that in bright white light bathrooms by gas stations with neon signs "open" won't "close" why won't it close, doesn't she hear the siren and see flashing blue on her closed eyelids a ripped black photograph of (boy)

(boy) won't quit running in deserted parking lots snagging his all black torn uniform on barbed wire fence silver with streetlight puddles reflecting a glow, yellow on tar, 'til morning he sleeps in the bathroom of an art gallery, waiting on the toilet until locked in for the night, practiced silence surrounds him in a cloud of smoke, don't wait for (girl)

 

Ed. Note: This poem is a holdover from last issue, when the four words were gallery, siren, ribbon, and uniform.