The Charity Of Night

Big city Europa - July of 64 - It's 5AM
 Weather blowing bitter off the Baltic.
 Car slows beside him as he walks
 Hubcaps slow revolution
 Jaundiced-looking pockmarked face, round in window
 Short greasy black beard
 Couple of language stabs, settle on English
 "It's cold - I give you ride.
 Don't you want to kiss me?"
 This goes on halfway across the cobbled bridge
 Driver pulls ahead - gets out by the construction fence
 Ambles towards him rubbing the bulge in his pants
 In his jacket is the revolver
 The hand is already in the pocket for warmth and fingers slide easily around wood grips
 Slow as that predator's footsteps the gun comes out
 Arm straightens, sight blade bisecting yellow forehead
 Wind - blue metal streetlight - Faint twilight shining on the corners of stones.
 Wave on wave of life
 Like the great wide ocean's roll
 Haunting hands of memory
 Pluck silver strands of soul
 The damage and the dying done
 The clarity of light
 Gentle bows and glasses raised
 To the charity of night
 Slow revolution - 1985 - crosswise in a hammock in the hot volcanic hills
 Its 3AM the night after the air raid
 From the ridge she watched A37s, like ugly gulls,
 Make a dozen swooping passes over some luckless town
 Maybe ten kliks beyond the border
 In the distance the Pacific glimmered silver
 Now lascivious laughter floats on the darkness from the police post next door-
 Male voices - and a woman's -
 Little clouds of desire painted around the edges with rum
 In the muddy street a pig suddenly screams
 Wave on wave of life
 Like the great wide ocean's roll
 Haunting hands of memory
 Pluck silver strands of soul
 The damage and the dying done
 The clarity of light
 Gentle bows and glasses raised
 To the charity of night
 Pacific glimmers silver
 Moon full over shadow mansion
 West coast - Can't say when
 There is incense and the heat-driven scent of flowers
 Tongue slides over soft skin
 Love pounds in veins brains buzzing balls of lust
 Fingers twine in wet hair
 Limbs twist and roll
 On the dresser wax drips in slow motion down the long side of
 A black candle
 Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone-
 Wave on wave of life
 Like the great wide ocean's roll
 Haunting hands of memory
 Pluck silver strands of soul
 The damage and the dying done
 The clarity of light
 Gentle bows and glasses raised
 To the charity of night