Diner - Fall/Winter 2005

all my times square dreams

 are collecting like
lights
covering the dropping ball
until i
wake up to the sound of morning
news and the smell of her skin
next to me and realize that i
don't need new york.

 i just need the bed that dreams
me anywhere and
my beautiful wife,
child,
and the end of a rain droplet
to keep my gullet wet,
and ready for the next dry spell
to make me yearn
over the tin cans of words
that have

just evaporated into another
new york skyline.