MEDITATION AT A STOPLIGHT IN THE RAIN
Empty streets after midnight––
Like the dark blue wings of the bank swallow
Drowned in crimson
& I’m walking slowly nowhere––scornful, laughing
At sleepless cars with tiny breadcrumb mirrors
& Amusement Park shoes scattered like depression
Through the sage gloved Moonlight parade.
Everything is timeless––
Stars flowing within endless rivers of Protests &
Weeping & houses filled with the poor.
The rain––a scorched blue ferris wheel
Typing out carnivals with her fingers
Like red glass clocks with four hands & the alarm
In ourselves passing out of eternity.
As the rain is to sleep,
So the rain agrees to live in the wet-sock silence
Of intersections, halting the endless steps
Of those who already know so much of everything
That approaches with the disordered fury
To live again––
Like a brown spaceship landing in your soul.
The rain will be a lost face in the mist of an hour
As it hovers overhead,
Chanting like an insect in a greenhouse.
Why do I remain
When all I see is the grey October eyes of those
Whom made me feel I was love,
But then I awaken & there’s no one here
1 October 1997
Spoken word version from Unspoken Words.
Copyright © 1998 by Jim Cohn.
Text from The Dance Of Yellow Lightning Over The Ridge (Writers & Books Publications).
Copyright © 1998 by Jim Cohn.