It’s the lights that I should probably be aching to remember for later,
or maybe the starry night sky,
or maybe the river’s matte shade of filth.
The glowing string of blue lights hangs across the river between these two layers of nature,
draped over three maybe nails, both ends dangling towards the ground.
I saw them like she was the only one on the dance floor and the year was 1983
so I try to think hard about this and also clever metaphors.
There’s something about the night sky and the muddy river.
I finish another thoughtful and feigned pee.
I know what I want to say
and it starts to feel real even before I ask him to follow my finger across the river.
when we stood up together to look
the lights had gone out and nothing but darkness floated towards us
we noted no fallen skies resting hopefully upon three maybe nails
still, we emptied our bladders into the vague reflection of the sunken stars
and determined that I don’t actually understand anything at all
but that I just wanted to talk about it.
By RYAN ALEVY / Staff Writer