I don’t lurk. Not really.

I need thunk-chink, thunk-chink, thunk-chink to think –
blasting mournful siren Doppler clarity
clears my murky brain
then I am

No one walks the bridge anymore
but twisting leaking souls
still I linger
(and never lurk)

Muck thick water cools
while frogs sing lullaby
on chorus logs
and the flowing unformed-unfirm
licks my body and leaves me
so wonderfully filthy
and pure
and I just breathe
until the next thunk-chink Dopplar rattle the stagnant
and I hold breath
and wait
to see if the rails give

Silly fool I am
aching under the black and firefly
umbrella sky for
the blind creators
who crowd me out
and split the night
with song Song SONG
in obscenely bright halls

I retreat
to skywaterearth where
frogs sing lullaby
to the perfectly unmade.