Straight lines of light shoot into the empty sky
There’s no question about “how empty” or “what sky”
It’s the same kind of empty and the same sky that’s always been there
Seen from the greasy window ahead
And here I am, wasting my whiskey on the bar stool
Some creep’s hand around my waist tells me I’m talented
That I should be proud of who I am
Yeah, buddy this drink is strong
Stronger than your pickup lines
Stronger than the eyes of others.
I’m attracted to the waitress because she has nice clavicles
I tell her and we flirt. His hand grips imperceptibly tighter.
When I leave the dive I feel like quanta
Light, that is, traveling in raindrop formation
As opposed to the continuous wave, a river
Light that hits like cool rubber bullets to the eyes and skin
When you’re warmer than your milieu
And you cause evaporation.
Being struck by hard drops of rain-like light
I can climb through the streets immune to the
Penetrating darkness of the downtown limits
Waving my dampened jacket sleeves at erupting columns of light
Facing off the determined oppressor
Turning upwards to collect my release.