Haze Of Empty Night

You can wash dishes at any
rate, smoke cigerettes out back
in the haze of empty night

kick rocks into puddles
and watch it splash the
dirt water on the back of some pigeon
brooding in the haze of empty night

moonlight shimmers on her wet
back and you walk back inside,
dead waltz to the kitchen sink
eyes half lit already from the pint
in your jacket pocket

shaking, trembling
from the haze of empty night.