House at Night after William Gedney Stranded by speech, nouns twine to amplify the asphalt-kindled dark. … Who isn’t inhabits the house— the husk of what wasn’t where a lamp-lit window hangs. … Sidewalk crabgrass collars a fire hydrant collared by street light. Gnarled cactus in a pot on a sill. … Silence is revision of silence, the sound of a paper cup dumping shadow over a curb.
Discussion about this post
No posts
Beautiful stuff. Good poems open up and this one unfurls nicely :)
"Who isn’t
inhabits the house—"
Brilliant.