City, I Have You Poem by Brian Purdy

far from here, in country sleep
houses and hay-ricks are deaf to street-car clamor
innocent of thirty-foot signs
scything neon shadows through this room
where I am hot and sleepless in my shirt-sleeves.

I would imagine the moon
and sleeping under fruit-trees, but
my radio's short on country airs. No more help
in this heavy-metal fraternity of night, these shadows
sweeping muck across the carpet.

city, I have you, exactly where you want me
in the sooty palm of a love I did not choose.