Have you ever looked at
your bent reflection
Drowned yourself in pity
and cheap alcohol
To the sound track of
infomercials
Catering to your
inadequacy
Sitting in the shadows
Light from the television
creating
Slow motion epileptic
episodes
Teary eyed as cigarettes
burn away in ash trays
Shit.... You don't even
smoke
Your mind holding on to
that silence
The sound of neighbors
walking above you
In abandoned buildings
Angels writing
autobiographies in graffiti art
I’ve seen you there I live
there
Staring into mirrors as
the night comes
Reflecting like street
lights on brown stone buildings
Vices will grip you like
gargoyles to them
Straight lines are hard to
walk
Everyone has their Demons
Ask Gil Scott-Heron
Birds are so full of life
in the midnight
I find myself jealous of
them
Listening to muted music
mimicking Mother Nature
Bleakness blankets I
should find my bed soon
Some place soft like
granite sheets of newspaper
Covered in grindstone
images
The wind kissing them like
tattoos
Of coarse memories on bare
skin
Wind chill and over
exposure to this world
Like geysers of oil trying
to touch God
As star ship sized markets
Crash to earth like hot
air balloons
Creating an irradiated
glow of desolation
Burned from our eyes
before we see it
We are the lucky blind
At first glimpse of
tangerine sky
Lavender kissing hells
horizon
Like shy girls stars wink
out one by one
As if taunting you
The smell of cancer
lingers in the air
An empty glass shatters on
the floor
You are waking from
reality
Asking yourself
Where did the night go
