Untitled, London Bellman
Oh night
Oh night of sheets falling upon flashlight skyscrapers
underneath we tell ghost stories through advertising
Oh night of the monarch conferring a sense of mystery
even a peasant gains majesty on a dimly lit sidewalk
Oh night of a hundred moons spreading democracy
over fields and glens your constitutions are blazing
Oh night of the soldier running from the surprise attack
only safe in the lengthening shadows that terrify
Oh night of the newlyweds slipping off their clothes
her nervous body prepared with fragrances and glitter
Oh night of the homeless man who went to Harvard
pushing his wife to McDonald’s in a shopping cart
Oh night of the stab victim recovering on a gurney
struggling to understand the English of the nurses
Oh night of the Labrador old and lying down to sleep
shuddering on the rug in disapproval of bluebirds
Oh night of UFO lights zipping over cows and farmers
and the beds where we cuddle with extraterrestrials
_________________
Benjamin Schmitt