Sunday (wishing)

headlight supernova exploding
through whisky soaked irises
erupting into the vast empty
recesses of my inner universe
where droves of brain cells are
dying like ancient stars
along with the fading lights
as they keep on moving
making twin bright white
streeks that seem permanently
etched in my miasmatic mind
a horizontal white light ladder
with no rungs and no way to
escape from where i sulk and

the wind can't make up its mind
wether it will be or die
as the sounds of the city
force it trough the taught
grin of the open window
along with some cold stale
air that raises goosebumps
like ten thousand tiny nipples
all screaming to be carressed
so i take another drink hoping
the burn will spread and stop
their incessant demands and

here i am forever looking out
hoping for a glimpse of perfection
among the rusting cars and dirty ice
and my hopes go unfulfilled but still
i find myself just wishing on
a smog tarnished star praying
that you would find your way back
you with your alabaster smile
that radiates light into my obscurity
you with your dark windswept tresses
and those haunting brown eyes i
could fervently delve forever into


unblinking streetlamps stare steadily
as i faithfully maintain my vigil
and far off trains and semis
hurl rythmically through my blues
lulling me into a stupor, sending
stubborn eyelids into cataclysmic fits
and i feel moments from defeat
as i try to cling to Sunday
like a homeless fist around
its last donation of the day
huddled in a locked liquor store doorway
desperate but overcome with a torpor
induced by the cold and too many tears

how come you never let me in?

so i curse the frigid darkness
wanting it to be illuminated by
the headlights of your car, your smile
seconds falling into minutes falling
into hours falling like the snow
snow being shoved loudly into icy dunes
left obliquely and directly in the way
by a sadly sententious snowplow driver
who looks up over his shoulder and waves
like he is the reason i sit in front
of my open window frozen in time
counting every set of headlights
hoping for a glimpse of perfection
and wishing you'd come home