Got customers there
Take the Path train to Journal Square
Lyft rides from there
JC is old
City that time forgot
I tell my driver about the diners
All leftovers from an unknown era
Like being in a Bruce Springsteen song
I tell her
She just looks at me and nods
Getting it even though maybe she doesn’t
Too young for my melancholy
That’s good
Days of meteor rain
claws of light scratching
the black skin of space silently
scraping the hole, the lesion
the wound in a memory
across a light years of heartbeat.
Aching blue moons
remember the musing of sorrow.
Frozen tears hang around the nebulae.
Sad sigh of a dying galaxy
still waiting for them to fall.
The starts are waltzing
against the ebb of gravity.
Dimming like tired eyes.
Here I am watching
until the universe wept it all.
Everything will always fall
leaving with bright scars
that time won’t heal
that darkness can’t seal
the universe is murderous,
I’d never died before, so
didn’t know what to expect,
looking up from where I sit
I see the dead tree budding
leaves erupt in a rage of foliage,
in a proliferation of small red berries,
then leaves turn autumnal crisp and die,
a year of seasons pass in a moment,
the beauty of a random time-eddy,
back where reality ends it’s past midnight
moons blaze down over broken rooftops,
ghosts of the dead outnumber the living
in tangles of skewed tachyons,
back when this murderous universe ends
colours pour like perfume and hours do
strange things, running fast then slower,
I forget your name, it no long matters,
looking up from where I sit, I see
you’re caught by the gravity of moonfire,
in the gold of a random temporal eddy
frozen in an eternal time-slow moment,
you are twenty-one and will ever be so,
I’ve aged decades as I still wait for you,
but I’ve died before, I know what to expect