Come on,
We can be like they are:
Vapid and naked,
Sprawled against the summer heat storm.
In my vanity I have found reasoning
And in my darkest corners
I have had to cope
Alone.

What do I gain
From writing poetry
On my breaks that should last but a cigarette's time?
The taintings of my self righteousness run wild
With sonic booms
On nights like tonight.

I tread on,
Keeping my neck barely above water
On the shallow end of this pool.
They'll take the poll again tonight
And maybe it will be
My turn to drown.