A day where

nothing fits.

lying in

my room

sifting through

gypsy thoughts

of running away

to perform in a

circus

with you.



getting a little

annoyed with

my pillow and the

fat cat sleeping

in the middle

of it.



listening

for your voice,

but I can't

hear it.


and just over

the skyscraper hill,

I travel

I wonder that

maybe today

I will arrive.


anywhere

that is away

from here.



I would love

to  topple the

highest building

In this concrete city

to the ground.

and plant flowers

and gardens on it's

concrete floors

and knock out

its cold concrete

windows with

a stone,


caught between

the greys

and blues

of downtown

Los Angeles,


wondering how

anyone ever

escapes from

this place

alive.