you ask me how
I can stay here.
I do not mind
the ***** streets.
you tell me why
I should leave this place.
I like the trees
that are empty year round.
these foreclosed buildings
and bare mattresses.
plastic bags and
cardboard signs.
you ask how could I like
a town like this.

here is just like
the inside of my head.
I like rust
because it is what
I am made of.