Poem Of The Week | After Hours By Erin Wilson
By Erin Wilson
It’s two a.m. I’m standing on an otherwise deserted street,
socks well used and falling loose at my ankles. What might it look like,
a middle-aged woman with her hands pressed to the glass of a dirty window?
I’m thinking about the moon and how each ocean wave cradles the orb.
Might we be afraid of immanence for fear of being proved wrong?
Two a.m. on an otherwise deserted street, a junk shop at my fingertips.
Prove immanence wrong then! I will yet be drunk on something.
Submissions are open for all HeadStuff poetry categories, including Poem of The Week (Every Friday), Unbound (longer sequence of poems from a single poet), and New Voices (submissions from poets under the age of 30.) We accept both written, audio and video recorded poems as long as the quality of the audio and video is of a high standard.
Please see our Submissions page for more information.