Jane Brunton - Night Music

The moon gleams like a poached egg.
In the hotel hallway high heels tic tac, totter.
Metal door clangs then grates open.
Laughter tinkles and recedes.

A bus clears its throat as the helper sings 'Ambato, Quito, Ambato.'
Street cleaners lament the after party refuse.
Mosquito belts a country and western tune in time to my cigarette wheeze.
Not knowing the tune a streetlight hums along.

Mating cats threaten an angry mutual orgasm as crickets cheer them on.
Khaki crunch of the police patrol.
Liquid homeward glide of those who have seen the last dog hung and heard the last song sung.

Chorus
Stutter, snort, chirp, yodel, yowl, raps, wheeze, hum, warble, pop

Dogs commune in howls and yips.
night birds stutter by.
A horn moans as a second bus wheezes past.
Diesel fog hangs in the dampness long after the bus is forgotten.
Stones pop like corn under a taxi's tires.

The town's leading rooster yodels to yawning day.
The moon lies dying, strangled in the palm of a black cloud.
An early rising radio warbles.
A dog hunches over his first steamy deposit of the day.

Chorus
Stutter, snort, chirp, yodel, yowl, rasp, wheeze, hum, warble, pop.

Jane Brunton

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-music-2/