City of Stare
By: Daniel Edward Moore | Posted on: December 2018
At the Green Lake Library anonymous minds
flicker with mystery under bearded lampshades,
under black Asian hair deftly chandeliered,
the tangle free syntax of fear and lust
flowing down arms into hands onto tables
where pulses parade unpunished and lovely.
As my eyes snapped on face after face, like
a Venus Fly Trap whose beauty is bondage,
library rooms became gardens of gorgeous,
rooms where silence strips language down into
heartache by line break, asystole style. Some think
there should be laws against this: penalties paid
by those whose eyes x-ray strangers with flammable need
in the chilling, city of stare. I am not one of them.