Matted autumn leaves cling To every surface The cold concrete streets The orangey red brick walls The chipped facade exteriors Of road lamps much like me The peeling rusty paint Dotted by bits of dampened foliage Little knotted up black things While road lamps donβt give a **** I have to pick them off my clammy skin And then they get under my nails They are abundant right now Like all the other frustrations of my daily life Sneaky little ******* The air is incredibly damp Itβs thick with fog Carrying with it a familiarly pungent But ever revolting scent Of a funky little diner down the street That makes my freckled nose wrinkle Reminiscent of the scent of past disgusts