Hothouse

By Dylan Moses

A Little While Later, 

Tobacco smoke performed a veil 

when walking into confession and the virgin man asks 

‘Face to face or behind the screen?’ 

Anonymity take me away, peel open and scrape 

the callus off like finger nail cutters after monkey bar afternoons 

He told lies and it was entertaining 

He had a lot across town that was to be turned into a welding site, but the dogs kept barking at him but he was on his way to certification 

The windows would watch him walk away and then once he got far enough they would ask him and bide him and tell him to walk towards them till they could kiss but 

Then the glass showed up behind shaken breath smudged heat and so he’d turn around 

He had pores and sores and they added with the blue bands with official looking lettering And the words sounded familiar like generic St. Hospital. 

The city bench brought him to me as the bus this late was free and he decided landing next To a closed Vietnamese shop was a good start to his new life and I just so happened to think the same – what a coincidence – and so 

Packs go by and they go on 

Both sitters have no one to go home or no home to go with and so 

Entertaining lies and if the flashlight of mind is bright enough 

Something can be found hiding between lips closing and reopening, twinkling and puffing their chests like little 

No light living shrimp in caves in Spain 

And with the 602 on the way for third times charm 

The rest of the pack was his 

And his stories were mine 

And the headphones come on 

And I watch him go by