PRAGUE

In between
No space in time
A symbol
Somewhere
Twice a line
Tiles piled up below
On streets at night
The disembodied blow
And thoughts are lost
Cost twice past twelve
A taxi
And a rip-off grin
The paradigm of night begins
Against the peeling
Paint smoke twiddled limbs
And collar bones
Americans
Low -
"Pantie-hose"
Red night on trams
Looks like disdain
Pain pocketed
Pock-marked graffiti
Ripped t-shirt
Bodies twice as hard
And white against the dark

This nights an art -

A workman
A lick of smoke
Woke me up four times before
Its Wednesday
And the shadows bend
And soar
Long and ripe against
My broken door