The light so late, a novelty, the shared

apartment wall’s blind counterpart, nascent 

cloudburst, was in fact many lights, staggered

exponents of the acrobats’ accord;

streetlights, headlights, windows across the way,

the moon converged in one uncanny gas

obliquely and blanketed the courtyard. 

No sound; non-scream, blood-heavy pyramid

of basal apprehension reported

treed balloons. As shoeless cricket-hours

home-intruded casting slideshow horrors,

rams and lambs perpetually filed 

up the fire escape, embroidering

reticent Mylar as nothing happened.