#1
underneath
the dirty fluorescent
light of nominal
crescents
my hands shook
loose what little change
i had to spare
smoked the stubs of
present airs
if only to put myself out
as an immodest flare
burning unmitigated
with each measured step,
as i rifle through my pockets
for a final fare
well

i have found nowhere
in the tangles of your hair.
but even if there was a pattern there
i only half-remember it -
like from across a great distance
as a postcard unread,
a thought unfinished.
how the browns rolled into blondes
which always lead to
half-naked waking yawns
the weight of my arms
and how you'd shrug them off
and how that's all i've got

as a town breaks from
bus windows
i count the lines
on the street
to get to sleep -
to get to the
bottom of everything.
but first i must be
underneath.
#2
This was a great read, but the entire first stanza need some more punctuation, otherwise it gets really weird to read at some point. Even if you didn't punctuate it for the sake of a more rushed pace, some lines just tangle too much on themselves, especially "my hands shook/loose what little change/i had to spare/smoked the stubs of/present airs".

Everything else was really good.