The Avenue

This is a pantoum.

The avenue's invisible to me

Because I'm listening behind the room.

I fear the man who's lurking in the black

Cackling at shadows in his eyes.

Because I'm listening behind the room

I know that death is breathing through the glass,

Cackling at shadows in his eyes.

He leaves a print of blood upon the knob.

I know that death is breathing through the glass;

I fear the man who's lurking in the black.

He leaves a print of blood upon the knob...

The avenue's invisible to me.