Steel Pier Road Kill

After the tinsel evaporates
we get back to divvying up existence
like “I guess you are someone I
thought I knew”
when it turns out you were just
talking to yourself
A light wind moving the top of
your head around inside
the bones of moonlight
like clockwork underwater
& all of it burnt clean to rock bone (the
rush of how night rushes across the sky
& streets (eyes are liquid & keyed in on
but where you cross the broken
line punching out your shadow
barefoot & needing a shave
but some precise measure
degrees of (I don’t know I’ve got it
written down at home along with
the names of some dead
movie stars & their phone numbers
breathing exercises for horn players
& such everything we take for granted
now that the thread & needles
have been safely stashed in your
memory & the beach road is
humming like a wire