Dark & Foggy Night

Blank dark mud foggy, fingers spidered
along cold dead buildings downtown
to keep him latched to the only world
as he moved unseen down a street only
guessed at, in the belly of some beast.
Summoning his rodent DNA memories,
no worries; he'll survive, rat-like, in a city
disappeared, so only those who walked it
out of memory were out there normal.
Not him. Just find a place protected
from this weather. One night. Dawn
would forgive him. Everything goes
the wealthy murderer's way—rest of us
pray, proud to accept each day unsaid!
Now his ancestors appear, of course,
limping slow as if hit with ghost flu,
grey as new cement. Who needs who?
He didn't know if they were there
to help him, judge him, or kill him.
He came upon his old uncle Audi, green
wet mystery island now, and invited all
to jump in! Soon, he drove a clown car
with ancestors' faces and asses pressed
against the glass. Got as far as the 7-11,
called it quits. Bud tall, barbecue chips.
All the world, hard edge gone to dream
in the parking lot—he couldn't see a thing.
"Everybody shut up and go to sleep!"
He dreamt away time, woke up, 
and almost reembered it. But, nah.
Not on a night like this. No sight at all.
How prayer started. Give me luck,
keep me safe, don't change the rules.