The ashtrays are full and
the fires have been lit.
Can you see me?
Even now, the night is spotted with shadow.
Watch them shiver on the ceiling.
Watch them slowly crawl about the room.
The windows are open for them to escape
but they do not budge;
they merely shiver, watching, lurking,
waiting for the moment to lunge
as I swing down into the darkness.
My eyes remain open.
I am feeling nothing,
touching the untouchable.
January 2005
Another one I missed. I don't check my emails very often. This poem is so beautiful. Your language is perfect... it's so visual. It's more like watching a Bergman film, than reading a poem. Why can't you bundle together "selected poems of Julian Gallo"? Or recite them into a YouTube video? I'm serious.