Nighttime Flight over Bangkok

August 12, 2016

On a large rickety table
He places a black cloth –
It hangs over the table like the night over the city.

From inside his long dark jacket
Glittering objects appear
And he arranges them in sprawling lines
And empty squares and unbroken rows
In the darkness.

Glittering gridlocks;
Shimmering miniature streetlamps;
Christmassy quadrants;
The small square glass window through which a family eats and argues and loves and screams.

Everything is for sale.

Everything is for sale.

Look at the shining lights, my friend,
And what lies in the dark can remain in the dark.

As if it didn’t exist at all.

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