this darkness swells with dumb echoes, popping
like magic bubbles into the tuneless air
releasing invisible scampers
into nothing

so weak is the spell of suggestion
between these carefully projected walls
aligned
straight
with just enough trees and shrubbery
to ward off the slightest amusing danger

the twig snaps from dryness only

there is no comfort in the grim glow
of too may windows and too many street lights
illuminating this corridor just enough
to show its bare affinity with the stars

and if I were to suddenly scream
IT’S A GODDAMNED SHAME
would they rush out here and sense
the fluctuations of the night
the haunting rhythm of nameless sounds
the tense grip of breath
the bristle of fur
as thousands of magic bubbles
release the sinister legions
into the leaves
the grass
and the bushes

or would they just stare from their windows
annoyed
fearful
blind
to the asphalt and wire girdle
choking the guts out of night