The Night Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The night shudders
Into forlornness.
Forty-winks seem like
An endless clamber towards
The end of knotted hills,
Gapped bridges, insurmountable heights
That wuther because of
A thousand-yard distance
Between my footing of cobwebbed disposition
And the circular, Harlequin face of the moon.
The night falters
Like the moments I hold
To wait for love,
When it did not come
And to have love,
When I do not want it to arrive
Such ironic lives we live.
The Sun singes, and it drizzles petulantly.
The moon sings, and the people are either
Asleep or drunk
Either way, they will never notice.
The night lurches
Into your impassable subconscious.
It disputes over reality
And lucid dreams
Where are you in the night?
Look for me in between verses
Of terse sighs that heave the heaviest.
The murmurs of my pursed lips,
Bite me there,
And I shall cut you with phrases.
Bite my lips,
And we will plummet across
The impalpable façade of the moon.
The night battles
Like a soldier. Such frenzied wonder!
The night is a mockingjay,
A blinkered child,
A finicky wife,
A cheating husband.
The night, just like any other night,
Will be an infamous delinquent.