The Charity of Night

Big city Europa - July of 64 - It's 5AM Weather blowing bitter off the Baltic. Car slows beside him as he walks Hubcaps slow revolution Jaundiced-looking pockmarked face, round in window Short greasy black beard Couple of language stabs, settle on English "It's cold - I give you ride. Don't you want to kiss me?" This goes on halfway across the cobbled bridge Driver pulls ahead - gets out by the construction fence Ambles towards him rubbing the bulge in his pants In his jacket is the revolver The hand is already in the pocket for warmth and fingers slide easily around wood grips Slow as that predator's footsteps the gun comes out Arm straightens, sight blade bisecting yellow forehead Wind - blue metal streetlight - Faint twilight shining on the corners of stones. Wave on wave of life Like the great wide ocean's roll Haunting hands of memory Pluck silver strands of soul The damage and the dying done The clarity of light Gentle bows and glasses raised To the charity of night Slow revolution - 1985 - crosswise in a hammock in the hot volcanic hills Its 3AM the night after the air raid From the ridge she watched A37s, like ugly gulls, Make a dozen swooping passes over some luckless town Maybe ten kliks beyond the border In the distance the Pacific glimmered silver Now lascivious laughter floats on the darkness from the police post next door- Male voices - and a woman's - Little clouds of desire painted around the edges with rum In the muddy street a pig suddenly screams Wave on wave of life Like the great wide ocean's roll Haunting hands of memory Pluck silver strands of soul The damage and the dying done The clarity of light Gentle bows and glasses raised To the charity of night Pacific glimmers silver Moon full over shadow mansion West coast - Can't say when There is incense and the heat-driven scent of flowers Tongue slides over soft skin Love pounds in veins brains buzzing balls of lust Fingers twine in wet hair Limbs twist and roll On the dresser wax drips in slow motion down the long side of A black candle Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone- Wave on wave of life Like the great wide ocean's roll Haunting hands of memory Pluck silver strands of soul The damage and the dying done The clarity of light Gentle bows and glasses raised To the charity of night