City Nights by Seth Jani

Your One Phone Call

Stars, as vertical as Chicago,
Burn in the wide systems
Before dawn.
With love annihilated, the streets
Are a river going downstream
Towards God.
So much a stranger
That the mansion fills
With ghosts.
I miss the moon,
Placid and arcane.
I miss those young winters,
Suicidally bright.

Seth Jani-Author Pic Seth Jani currently resides in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress ( His own work has been published widely in such places as The Foundling Review, The Devilfish Review, The Hamilton Stone Review, Hawai`i Pacific Review and Gravel. More about him and his work can be found at

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