by Hakeem Anthony
under the pink lights
why have all these extensive noises started
penetrating these sound cancelling expensive toys
around these ears and hear these conversations
with subtle coy
the pink lights
fade the gloss & blush of those two in tubetops
fade the stubble & dark eyes of those two in tanktops
on their way to drunks who feel a little
hurt from their earlier in the day breakups
perhaps the party will play a sympathizing drake
a throwback thirsty thursday
a synthesized 808s & heartbreak kanye
nah
it is thursday but they ride the ride like it is the weekend
so the weeknd’s thursday could also make an appearance
why care so much about a party
under the pink lights
see an older couple in the far east
holding large seating are feasting
on each others words arguing easily
under the pink lights
why is this person struggling to stand
with seven wegman’s bags wedged in
badly fingers slowly grasping heavenly hemoglobin
the backed in reddened flow will be thoroughly disrupted
maybe you shouldn’t have wrapped them
around your wrists as your melancholic gloom
blooms in the pink
under the pink lights
a pastor without choir
or congregation requires
conversation with black
and red words fulfilling
the nonsinning desired
relation without marriage
with a higher creation
under the pink lights
all the fucks to be given
when the bus driver listens
and listens but never submits an idea
except that when exiting
stay clear from the front of the shuttle
a stop at the pizzeria
and entering here
is the perfect couple
with a cuddle
certain to attract
the attention
of the nonapprehensive crowd
just because your arm is around now
does not mean in a few hours
you will still make each other smile
under the pink lights
all these relationships displayed and I can’t help but
play with my imagination creating scenarios like
texting closing or conclusive emotions
on a phone in the moon-ruined ocean
afloat on wreckage for a few moments, then decide to send
a text message check listing
the brain with mind
the womb with child
the sky with stars
the earth with mars
under the pink lights
listen to the music of 3000 wounded or so humans
looking for alcohol to rub their internally bruised organs
why do many think they are foolish to think doing
that will be useful in the future
under the pink lights
can the transient characteristics of glass jarred cannabis
be on par with an omniscient asgardian guardian
of martian backyardigans starring in a story where all
the glory of life is about partying with rolie polie olie cyberchasing
baby pac-man Mario Karting with other cartoon beings
in starry gardens & rainbow roads farther in an artist’s pen
thoughts like those only a few adjacent
there was placed substance in the stomach
inescapable shared second hand blazing
and when the high got amazing
these eyes were pinking & reddened
while this mind was thinking & extended
and this mouth drinking & deadened
kept little depressions since conflicting additives were in the mix
under the pink lights
staring at buses
staring at busts
staring at butts
under the pink lights
it is lonely in this seat
so once the leave is taken
there’s hope some folk saw
this sole human
observing the internal movement
writing a note and
leaving it on the seating
with greeting of please read & good night
under the pink lights
will they recognize this letter
as the only thing in that seat that was
ever alive as an unpublished transcript
under pink-lit public transit