The City

A Rant

I close my eyes and I again remember
licking blues and jazz across the city.

Tired eyes lagged with dreams
and delusions of grandeur in the parks
of the city.

Old men dredged in golden crusted heat caked
liquid, and white cigarette stained beards
wander throughout
the city.

Eyes hollowed out from to much brown liquour
seethe like shale cracked deserts
through the heat of the city.

Life is lived in Glory, crushed like velvety grass
pouring out of a lawn mowers
just on the outskirts of the city.

Naked in windows, in small caged new age structures
like caves resting upon caves,
with fire lit TV screens casting shadows onto the city.

Across the world, they dream of coming to the city.

The night is fluid, and drinking in the confused minds
of lost souls, and gambling souls, and souls
that could only bash themselves against the blacktop
of the city.

I lost and regained my mind
in this city.