Draft 2 - Going Ghost

[wasellajam]

Hi, Alonso, an intriguing piece well done, a few notes:

Awake. Engines whir outside.
Red lights strobe into the room.
The dark is heavy with the bulk of night. Strong opening, mood set.

Almost a year spent reciting a script
to strangers, sitting in the same space
where I sleep, staring out the window
at a hollow building
across an empty parking lot. Crows outside
communicate discovered repasts "communicate" seems too cold for me, even though the language suits the chill of the poem it doesn't evoke the sound, "broadcast" comes to mind but you'll think of something if you agree.
with fellows of their murder.
I do not notice my own building
has been empty too,
until another living person
imparts the sacred knowledge. By then
the world will have always been imparting

when the body remembers how to see. I'm not sure about "when", I have trouble putting the sentence together.
Right now it is already dark. I observe
the bed cannot be made. This hour
so much of the world
becomes shadows and reflections:
lights left on by construction,
neighboring windows of empty rooms.
On the balcony I sip cool coffee and smoke. The movement of this line is an effective change to the familiar.
Everything is shadowed by a genocide.
Is there time to do the laundry.
Can I water the rotting bonsai. It's too much water that will rot a bonsai, did you intend that?
Can dust collect another day.

Thanks for posting these interesting poems and for the critiques you've given others, all good reading.