5 A.M. Poem by Lon Yankofsky

At 5am the carnations on top of the kitchen
Table shriek of loneliness
The forks and the knives are used to it now
At 5am
In the full mooned wet light
The room has been emptied of all
Hopes,
and big white lies
At 5am the sky is bruised so
Black and blue,
the sky above
So black and blue
Filled with suns and moons
In this den
At 5am the elements of our lives
Collide
At 5 in the morning
When honesty and deceit are at peace
When the heart and the mind meet again
Such fusion and confusion
This painful fated tryst
euphoric in it's 'gist of it'
this sickly dance this 'folie a deux'
this pas de deux in the glare of the
fluorescent light tonight
at 5am
in the laser moonlit night the carnations are empty of matter
you go to touch one and your hand passes
right through
as if it were merely a holographic image
dancing like angels on the head of a pin.
at 5am
at 5 am
too far from her flesh
my hair on end i stand in
my underwear
in the naked moon bulb 60 watt night
at 5am i make my confession
hand in my resignation
doubled over in pain
i got kicked in the groin
at 5 at 5 in the 'am'
i am
what i am- not what i want
in the tear filled room of dripping
gloom
the incandescent moon
at 5 am
without emotion sat and stewed
in the kitchen
at 5 where we laughed where
we danced
cried and laughed in the yellow
balloon moon night
at 5 in the am matinal light
i looked up the meanings of words
like serene
like euphoria or joy
and consequently
misery
suffer not fools gladly
at 5am when everything is Holy
Holy
at 5am i danced a step for each
hair on her head
at 5 o'clock
on the tabletop were the transub-
stantiated
carnival carnations in the room
awash in the luminous leer of
the man in the moon
at 5 am the carnations bend
twisted
bent out of shape
having risen from the vase
now drift in space
at 5 am there is not a sound except for a
flower petal
falling to the floor
and crashing down
sounded like bombs in Iraq
in the night at 5am
the arthritic hands of clock ache
but
but where is the glitter
at 5
5 in the 'am'
where the streetlights without pity shine