The night air is crisp, not cold.
Every street is like a highway at 5 am in the late Summer
And kids are screaming drunk on the periphery.
I'd be a bastard if I didn't say it makes me feel like God.
Late night urgent care, the river bank, atm machines.
My store front eyes are wide shut-
Like a solitaire flush-
Like a raging storm-
Waiting at the bus station at 5 am,
I am an electric lightpost and a schedule board.
And my bed is too warm.
so calming going down lakeshore with all the lights and the sky is so dark. knowing you have nowhere to be but home in bed. maybe i just love this city
Is it all that we wanted?
This longing.
I'd rather be dead than hungry.
I'd rather be destitute than fed.
The river bed is dry and I'm weary,
It takes a man years to float
Where the water's
Few and far between.
Like touching a wild animal.
Arroyo in my desert where the love should be.
I bathe in sand and loss
And hawks flying through.
Nothing to own
Or some wanting to prosper.
Only the Sun burning-
Hungry and wailing
To get to you.
