Deer In The Night

Deer in the night run on clipped lawns
 Deer in the morning dead by the road
 Flies are all humming death does become them
 Flies are all happy they never know famine
 Houses alike in circles and rows
 Named for the lost woods, places afar
 People inside them crowded and lonely
 Dreams gently dying together alone
 The cars they go one way, cars they come back
 Everyday but sunday and sometimes they crash
 Waning moon rise stars barely seen
 They city's greath filth bright towers gleaming
 Quiet is hiding from sirens and shrieks
 But loves the good music in spaces between
 Bats a dark cloud dance the dusk sky
 From under the bridge all along the lakeside
 Seeing with sound, hunting with song
 Never colliding or killing their own
 The cars they go one way, cars they come back
 Everyday but sunday and sometimes they crash