neon sheath

let's dispense with all this imagery
immediately - something about
a sword of night and how it
slips into my neon sheath, with
cold metal, cars and the like, and
all the rest. This poem is about
life on the street

sign lines
mean clean
bright lights

winds find
limbs, climb
tough boughs

my neon peon
the sword words
are night's sight
the death sheath
a day away