Sundown Powered by Microsoft Excel
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The apple of the sun sets
on a purple horizon fermenting
cold in that glass winebox
set as a panel against the far wall
of my office
overlooking the lights of the city
that glow like a sea
of frozen fireflies at dusk
glittering gold and yellow
and come evening darken
as the yolk of the sun bleeds
like so many nights diluted by ecstasy
lit epileptic by sparklers
burnt fingers glowing orange
the blue warping tint of the sky under LSD
or some other drug
and when the evening is done
it all leaks away
from the glass winebox
and when the moon rises on the glass I can see
the city dark in quietude
the people going
like moths when
the porchlight turns out.
And though my window to the world
no longer holds the sloshing horizon
I remain
as a mockery
with a blue glow on my face
watching another person's life drain away
drop by drop
while I sit sober
in my chair.

|I wrote this on my phone while doing unpaid overtime. Wheeee!

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