The Bruise by DS Maolalai   

the night has a light

as of starling-

wing colour.

 

blue shine

shading gold

into purple,

like fingers

on doorbells,

people waiting.

the yellows of streetlamps

casting the evening's bruise

with healing pus

and flashes of white,

the inside of buses

where kind eyes

time themselves

to drunk girls going home.

 

traffic lights shine

red on wet pavements

and the blue of sirens

comes in

like feet

shadowed on cold tile.

 

the night

has a face;

bruised carbuncles stained with make-up

shining

cold

and sleepy.

About the Poet:

DS Maolalai has been described by one editor as “a cosmopolitan poet” and another as “prolific, bordering on incontinent”. His work has nominated twelve times for Best of the Net, ten for the Pushcart and once for the Forward Prize, and has been released in three collections; “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016), “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019) and “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022)