five o'clock shadow while scrawling angry words
on paper napkins and the whites of unpaid bills
tongued by strangers whose taste buds grasped
the glue sitting peeled beneath your fingers. heavy
to-do lists and fogged up glasses from shower
steam and overcooked, soggy angel hair.
you've always been a daydreamer but now i see
the architecture in your furrowed brow, you've built
a new line of skyscrapers in your brain that jut out
and **** and pollute this air. i can't quite read
the neon name that electrocutes you, but i
can see the tremor; hop-scotch kid turned
sour, with ****** knocked up knees. when
you daydream your gaze lifts you to
the power lines, so my knuckles crack
as your eyes slant south. i catch you staring at
the subway tracks, such sad depth inside your
bones. a chime goes off and bing - you're back -
spine up tall and spewing city lights. when you
spend your mornings in dust brushed cities
the sun begins to creep away. your eyes reflect
artificial light, hunched in eternal concrete clouds.