WAITING

In a room, space shrinks.

Decadent dreams, shipwrecks.

Some ascend ladders.

Smiling predators.

Outside, flattening rain.

A room’s a thin garment,

the heart old newsprint on the floor.

That woman on the wall, threadbare,

her gaze on you decaying.

The horizon, like the town,

withdraws.

No signs, no portents.