Between White Lines and Black Circles

you
fuck up phone booths
because there's no one to call

the concrete is cool and
the overpass will hum you to sleep

or catch a strange man's car
(where is your own?) and
cruise the industrials
with his hand in your lap

shiftingstickshiftingstick
(and this too shall pass)

call it a learning experience
this and all the others like it
the pivotal nights pushed
beyond peripheral memory,
censored black over in
heavy impasto smears.
"the days change at night change

in an instant"

--Scott A. Russell