Light drunkenly reels into shadow;
Blurs, slurs uneasily;
Slides off the eyeballs:
The segments shatter.

Tree-branches cut arc-light in ragged
Fluttering wet strips.
The cup of the sky-sign is filled too full;
It slushes wine over.

The street-lamps dance a tarentella
And zigzag down the street:
They lift and fly away
In a wind of lights.

Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 586 times | Comments (0)

Poet: A.S.J. Tessimond
Poem: Wet City Night
Volume: The Walls of Glass
Year: Published/Written in 1934
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