STUN GUN [AMOM 03]

[STUN GUN] 

Morris treads concrete 

Rain smudges vision & mind

A shadowy sketch of the city

More lucid dream than scape

When it finally stops

The silence stuns Morris 

Eyes see nothing moving 

Ears go searching for life

Where is everyone

The noises 

The voices

The rhythm of a million people

Involuntary poetry gone 

Morris leans heavily 

Against a streetlight 

Dumbfounded wonders

“Is time over at last?”

No soul offers a clue 

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A MONTH OF MORRIS POEM 03 | NOIR POETRY 365 POEM 029

More about this project here.