Honk

4:00 am not the train not even
the usual freeway in your bedroom
then in your head yanking sleep up
off you your heart rushing to
catch up to that stacked staccato
monster gnawing the neighborhood
or totally brass every car alarm in
earshot hollering endless relay
sucking the air out of everywhere
wake up
those long smooth calculations
your mind makes when there’s
some sudden bad
you’ve got to get out of bad being
the only place since you got back
like home
flipping through the sound index
until you know it’s not a city
crying out for deliverance
not gunfire: it’s geese
not flying over like always on their way
somewhere else but
knotted up in one place located
two houses down
where the loud people live
the relentless loud people
women with prison eyebrows men who
come out only late at night and stand
out in the street and holler fuckyou
nofuckyou no fuck you arwr arwr arwr

then glass breaking
feet running down the street
or first the feet and then the glass
and then their cars screaming past
or sliding slowly by
bass jacked up so crushing loud
you feel it in your teeth
even their cars say fuckyounofuckyou
but right now
in this particular morning
the loud people are just crazy pissed off
to find themselves suddenly
low-bottomed and feathered and
craving worms
and no matter how long or how often
they try to holler louder than each other
fuckyounofucknofuckyou
all that comes out over and over
is honk honkhonkhonkhonk
honk honk
honkonkhonkhonk
honk

honk honk

honk

honk

. . .

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