Night spreads unmixed on our palette of wakefulness,
crisp brights and filmy silences.
Monolithic structures wink at our stars,
coddling in cozy galactic distances.
We tread the silver roots of the city,
burnished for our honeyed fingertips
dipped in the now not ever. Seen
are solids only; the lamps of thousands
chase symbols from our path
into the cold sepulchral sewers.
By Jason Paul Fox
copyright
2007 Jason Paul Fox
poem written by JASON PAUL FOX.
You
MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
Violators are prosecuted, no joke!
I'm living off the generosity of plagiarists now!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and
don't make money off it)