You come home- Coat, shoes, and armor slip off- You cuddle your tired muscles in bed- Or next to the fire- Think that you don’t want to think at all- Had a mouthful to say- But you can’t find the energy- To make sense of it anyway- Slow motion, faces become light traces- Revolving doors, escalators to the hard- Marble floor- The hand on the clocks ticking to each second- Men and women sterile by the work hours into the late night- Sagging lips, and bags beneath their eyes- Plastic surgery back to being close to perfect- Stock market shot up, heroine for the people- Election in suspended animation- Media cancels out real information- Using their electronic white out- To much of too little- Get the hell out of here- Easy though, pump in the gasoline- The rent, Mt. Olymus cost of living- If I wasn’t so involved- I would think me as a whore- For corporate sex, IPOs- I won’t disappoint you- I’m the big city, the big needle- Intravenous to your brain, siphoning the air- So looming each night, while stuck'n the hole- Is what was, what if, what could have been- I do have the lepers in my head- Claustrophobic neurons firing at me- BIG Needle in the sky- Take my clothes off- And ask forgiveness- The cities drug will get you high- Muted emotions doesn’t disturb the traffic flow- Muted emotions- Muted emotions- Underneath, I’m an animal. I’m a poet- I’m a bug in the software- My misconduct- My political incorrectness- Gives me pause- To the tragedies above-Birth sign: Libra
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by FireFly.