my dreams and aspirations
cannot be confined to this textbook
for it can’t teach me how to
walk the cobblestoned streets of stockholm,
surf the waters of bondi beach,
ride the canals of amsterdam,
nor hike the city of cinque terre.

but here i am, not knowing what the future holds in store for me,
just waiting for the time to come
of which i can experience
the joy that is to travel.

As i walk through the streets
I see a plethora
Of unsavory women
Savoring the stares of
Serpent like savages in their
Silk ties and suede shoes.
As i stare in silence
I sit in solitude
And slowly think
On why these sultry seducers
Sully their bodies to satisfy the snakes.

I walk through the city
Alone, free.
In a bigger cage
Than i once thought.
The women have their eyes on me
I feel them, and they feel me
But what they feel is not love
Or care
Or passion
Its meekness
I am not a man to them
Just a mere morsel
A wealthy fruit for the picking.

The women do not interest me
Nor do i despise them.
But the thick fog
Of cigatette smoke
Painting the air
With silhouettes
Of the courtesans of a bigone era
And the ghosts of those who
By choice
Consorted with them
Instead of their loved ones
Haunt over me
Like a puppeteer
Trying desperately to regain control
Over Pinocchio.

I do not despise this place
I just wish i could convince Roxanne
To turn off that red light.