on sunday mornings
the streets sigh
with hideous anticipation
awaiting an answer to a question—
unspoken—
is the city dead
or not yet awoken?

listen to them wingmongers
circling round
squawking about how
there be tiny cities on the ground
moss barble asphalt
laid down
betwixt twig-mud megatowers
architecture of invisible sound
leaves decomposing, ants scurrying
spider weaving her web,
connecting flowers like power
lines buzzing beetles hurrying
all the way down the naturebound
highway,
off-ramps to the nine burrows
past the dead squirrel,
through the downpour
of fungal spores more
self-sustainable than any city of yours,
screech the wingmongers,
and from dirt level
i understand their song
these tiny cities will be
long past
when our civilization's long gone

Drowsily dreaming the dreary day away,
I lean 'gainst the sill, looking out on the city.
Deep sighs cascade from my open mouth
Before I close my eyes and hum a diddy,
Remembering the people who've shown me pity,
As the train rattles on heading south.

Street cleaners gather beneath crisp tree leaves,
Collecting cloudy tears along the hem of their hoods,
Their oversized coats reminding me of the night
we shared a bench within the downpour of the city,
You demanded I kept my hood down,
Allowing raindrops to trickle atop the bridge of my nose
As your fingers traced the cherry red tips of my ears,
I spent many minutes contemplating how
I would explain my state to my mother,
Settling on the notion to flee to my room the moment I returned,
Soon enough sense turned hazy,
Your violet lips nicked my own,
In a sickly speed.

A man who slips on the steps of life
And the sun would bring a shadowy pull:
All men that forget to take this street -
In shameful calls we'll hear him go.

The night clung to me
Like a cold sweat
Pressing my dress
Against my skin
Until the dampness of my panic
Ran with my mascara
I nestled my keys between my fingers
Makeshift Freddy Krueger
Lashing out at shadows
As they slinked around my feet
Fear sliding slowly along my face
And wiped it away quickly
So I could forget
I was alone
In the middle of the city
At night
Leering glares and catcalls
Loitered doorways
Tugging at my sleeves
Twisting their claws in my hair
Offering up glasses overflowing
In broken promises
And blatant lies
As I tried to rush by
Looking for a vacant streetlights
To hover, fluttering near with paper wings
So I could forget
I was woman alone
In the middle of the city
At night