Bat Sight or Tuscaloosa
As It Appears in My Subconscious
Again the day has slammed shut
and the night reopened.
Bug-gulping gangs of sightless bats
pour through the sky
rehydrating the slowly closing gash of twilight.
There's a deep rumbling going on.
All the holes and the things that go in them
are making their movements
finding their best gait.
The spaces between things are becoming clear in the darkness
the not really dead get their second sight.
The bats fall into formation
avoiding people and their sonar-jamming machines.
A man sits, crouched at a table
touches his lips with his fingertips.
"Beautiful day for a night"
falls serpentine and spiny on the ears of his companion.
"Which of us is going to be the victim?"
she wonders as she drops into a trance.
Sightless bats glide over a rooftop.
To them the city looks like
an unending volcanic eruption.
A couple walks down a day ravaged sidewalk
They're working on a fight because the girl has
forgotten which one she's supposed to be.
The boy's yelling at her,
he doesn't "fucking wear eyeliner".
The bats see the couple’s heels as metal disks
whose edges dissolve into sparks
as they grind against the concrete.