from beneath the sheets
soaked with last night
I slump
another nightmare
unfortunately
I’ve again awakened
another hard night
now
another shit day
I rise
make my way carefully
moving head down
shufflin’ to the bathroom
to wash my face
it’s reflected sallow
in the yellowed wash
of feeble incandescence
strange tired eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my spirit
eyes of knowing
eyes of disappoint
eyes of sadness
the look burns through me
weighing upon my being
I want to scream
but no one’s here to hear me
in this cluttered two-room flat
morning maintenance done
I grab a cold bagel
gather up my stuff
trudge out the front door
down the rickety wood stairs
into the oblivious streets
that echo my strangled dreams
I duck and dodge
in and out
of early morning shadows
past the garbage and graffiti
of these dirty bricken’d canyons
they vibrate with the rush and chaos
of synapse and sinew
the hum of networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
can — beyond the reach of — should
monoliths of human avarice
cold and indifferent
clad in stainless
stone
and such
a halogen and neon blaze
they surge with manipulation
and greed
in varying shape and differing size
they flank in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
blink and beep and ring
they buzz and hiss
and stink
thoughts flood in a torrent
souring my head
I’m now rushing
unseeing
seething with anger
and exasperation
when suddenly
I stumble
a crack in the sidewalk
this fuckin’ city!
then I look down
startled
what the hell
a flower
really
no shit!
in that moment
flabbergasted
I unspring my tension
exhaling
I pause
I’ll be damned
caught in a flash
of wonder
I muse
maybe
maybe dreams
actually do survive
somewhere
in this concrete hell-hole
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: Sunday Muse