Nite Life
Night took a long time coming, crept slowly
from the east and dumped its load of velvet
in my street, sleek, yellow wolves stood by
the doorway of dusky caves where
“I did it my way” is played again to losers
at the bar; the barmaid’s laughter is a shriek
of hate held up by a pink bra. Victims and
abusers are linked to a chain of nights; only
yellow wolves dance and see the moon.