day and night

I: Day

sitting on a bench across from the fountain

under late day clouds of grey

the sun’s retired early

and left the sky alone

blowing on my cappuccino to cool it down

the froth swirls and i see a universe

in the paper cup

smoking cigarettes, reading kerouac

i need three hands for all that i’m doing

passers walk by and stand beguiled

at the peaceful setting accused defile

i think there is blood in my cup

II: Night

dormitory stairwells reek of tenement houses

the rancor of stale beer pervading

reading baudelaire by midnight streetlights

the warmth of a match drives the night chills

hither for but a moment

the shivers of sleep and empty sheets soon to entrap

letters to reach where hands can not

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