After Midnight

night walking through old neighborhoods,
I hear big cars squealing their tires, gunshots
ringing out at parked cars and babies screaming
for milk.

after midnight I slow down, each tennis
shoe frozen in goo, candy wrappers,
my old house alight with crack.

two persons jog away, plastic
baggies in their hands, cold vomit
retching up their throats.

my loud knock scares
the cat, the feline swooshing through bushes,
each eye aglow in yellow.

the lights go out, the TV too,
the people freeze. I’m just a haunted lover
wanting to go home, but afraid
to turn the key.

No one lets me in.