Awake.
Coffee's brewing somewhere. All over.
Everywhere.
Dancing leaves.
Power walking streets too wet to push.
Metal gear shifting on tracks.
Speaking doors, open.
Sustain buzzing of the AC.
My battery's on its last leg.
Morning faces. Droopy, unpleased faces.
Greyer skies with layers of clay blue.
Wandering thoughts mixed with memories and "should haves".
My radio died.
Piss stenced hallways.
Unfortunate poverty right beside them.
Walks by; a handsome man.
'Ooo, what I would do to--'
I'm late for my train.
Swift legs.
Quick dash through people traffic and arrive at a place I dread most mornings.
this is my commute to my living.
Awake?
ReplyDeleteOr maybe a dream
I can hear the babies screaming
They ache for their mothers teat
She is nowhere
She hustles on the street
The men walk by and scowl
One child's mother is another man's garbage
We are all alone
We are all dead
And yet
We still feel the need to feed
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