4/13/2017

spring sprung like a coil
forcing itself, tugging on the city's dress
and the flowers, rabid

the mixed old cement steps
of the apartment building where i sit
tinny song in the air saying

oh, i'm just a kid
oh, i'm no longer a kid
dead on arrival, letting myself go

the city's mine now
well, at least any point below 4th street
and city hall

i am no longer suffering
i am simply waiting
the argument could be made:

what's the
difference?
that, i don't know.