Corner of Vine and Main—

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Corner of Vine and Main— 
      the bachelorette
lies still beside the toilet bowl, her groom 
now dreaming strippers on her lap— the street 
is still and dark as dirt, a siren sound 
the only clue the night is yet alive, 
and digging through my windshield three red eyes 
sway hypnotically beneath the vine
like snakes. 
    Bright candles in the chocolate night, 
my headlights poke the darkness with a baby’s 
fingers, searching for something, something.

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