Leslie Philibert (6th March 1954 / London, England)
Another Bad Night
A black hood has been forced over my head,
a thousand unborn children sing in my garden,
I cannot be switched off.
Voices rough with tobacco are planning my demise,
they lurk full of malice before my house,
a distant televsion frees waves of laughter.
The darkness starts from the ground and reaches
to the top of the sky, I wan`t to tear out the stars
but they are too hot, like lightbulbs.
My stolen sleep has been pushed like a dummy
into an old suitcase, it rests ignored on a lighted pavement
next to the brumming diesel of a standing bus.
Comments about this poem (Another Bad Night by Leslie Philibert )
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