an alley

silly little man
put aside
for other times
of other fascination
take no one on
in other lights
where tones shudder deep
and water
refuses to ripple
in the steadfast beliefs
of a solitary
night
when all is dead
not just the moon
whose puckered, pickled
smile
is nothing more than a drunk man
in an alley
who smiles from ear to ear
offering only what he has
nothing