For the man selling books on the street at night

For the man selling books on the street at night

These dull nothing lights

have seeped

in and filled

my ears once sweet

tunnels, my eyes once

wandering from 

room to roam, my mouth

whose tongue once

curved in searching.

I make it all wrong and 

right.

I'll be off soon and

see the space that's

left.

I am saying these words 

straight

to you.

Or trying to.

I don't know why.

July 15th 2009