From dark-hooded hills to harboured coastline,
dogs bark at brick walls in an ear-freaked chorus line.

A diet coke can trickles down empty streets.
A telephone’s dring-dring repeats, and repeats.

A CD sticks at Blue- Blue- Blue-, never reaching the Moon.
Televisions flick themselves on in empty rooms.

Untouched cars jounce into a high-pitched scream.
A lowering railhead barrier goes bing… bing… bing.

A door hinge creaks. Suddenly, a whopped slam.
Lonely computers announce they’ve received more spam.

The clock’s tick-tock-tick turns dong… dong… dong
and something changes in the air, something wrong.

I turn to you and twist away from you.
In the grave night no one sleeps true.