A Room Poem by Lazarus Knix

A Room



Five PM, it’s too dark.


A mellow street sleeps
In the cold breast
Of November.

Black light
Enters from the window,

And it sounds like a
Buddhist ocean outside.

“This bedroom is so desolate…”


A phone rings…. I wait.
Again,
A white screech rakes at
My eardrums.

My hand reaches forward-
“Must a man always be
Alone in company”?

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