from “You Are in Nearly Every Future”
The sounds of summer leave
your lungs mid-autumn.
Gulls rebuild the sky.
It’s more or less a spectacle.
With a gauze of dark circles
under your eyes, you watch
the whole world take a rain check.
The clouds overlap until nightfall
and you twiddle your thumbs
at everyone’s mid-life crisis.
The moon blinks inside
out and no one notices.
You do all the talking.
The city lights acting as your voice.
Copyright © 2015 by Noah Falck. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 28, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.
“‘You Are in Nearly Every Future’ is a long poem that has been used in a number of collaborative multimedia projects. The poem itself is drunk on landscape and the noise of time, and how they never finish.”