monksta

peering through a 2nd floor window
i'm looking at brick laid upon brick
and this city seems larger than
the one i left, the people i left.

i'm surrounded by friends that
reminisce about past times and goodbyes
and i'm smiling in this
half-held together body.

clothes folded over clothes, and
words caressing the ears like
notes layering the top of martinis,
we are all the same
even in different environments.

i am pretending not to notice
the decline of civilization,
and coffee after coffee creeps
into every pour on these S. nights.

we are trolling downtown,
massaging chairs with our backs,
as men wander past children
with little sneers and women
fall apart because there is
no laundry to do.

this place seems dirty,
you couldn't tell by the streets,
but i can see it in their eyes
that the seedy underbelly
is bubbling beneath the surface.

-----

update ::: 3am

this town bubbles with people,
a perpetual coffee pot on boil
and yet it seems so empty,
so wasteful, and so utterly tasteless.

as much as i remove myself
from the city with which i am close to,
this city is no better,
and i suspect none really will be.
they are just place holders,
one page menus with just enough starters
for you to be satisfied,
before you realize that you are tired,
so tired of tasting the same food
every day that you just stop caring.

from five stars to two, they always
lower those standards and you always
have to adjust or lose hope.

it's never about the city,
it's about the person you are,
and how you duct tape yourself together
every single night, how the patchwork
and bandaids keep your soul from
falling into these dirty little cracks,

every city has a sewer, a dirty street,
a failing streetlight just when you need it,
but at least you can always keep your
heart on, otherwise you are just
broken politics.

----

update #2 :::: 5am

if i never see Lincoln again,
life won't really change.
He's old, he's buried, and he
had a beard and frankly
he's out of style.

----

update #3 :::: the next day

disappointment. one is minor.
one is major. she is of the minor.
he is of the major. either way,
not what was expected, but not
surprising either.