some days on city streets when desperate wind pleads "crack my skin" the street signs point me in directions no one else has ever taken tight-rope walking on the web that concrete spiders worked to build hungry from the give and take the concrete spiders eat their fill on surfaces of vacant buildings stretched with age and caked with sin on roads with stoplights always broken potholes big enough to crawl in some days the city feels to me like its alive and i think "what a pity" that my only thought is "find a place to hide..." the skyline is the backdrop that with rusty nails holds silver lights a copied plywood image painted perfect black to match the silver sky astronauts were ordered to fly past the edge and broadcast the stars (pictures cities never see only because its never dark) they were lost in orbit we never saw what they recorded so some days the surface of your heart is cracked with age dried from within abandoned bridges lead me to a side of you i've never seen or been deserts closing round deserted sets of pictures long forgot and lead me on to empty veins (to tunnels that extension cords light up) where classic film piled up in the sand in locked up rooms and through a single camera lens in black and white, the sky comes into view real life stars! you and i under real life stars on the screen finally...real life stars i found it all inside i found it all inside your heart some days the street signs give me different ways that i can go but what's the use if concrete walls are at the end of every road the inside of my heart is just a little place but a masterpiece a moving city full hope but only if i choose to pack and leave some say the city makes them feel like they're alive i think "what a pity, it only makes us feel like we're alive" some days the city feels to me like it's alive i think, "what a pity" that my only thought is"find a place to hide..."
find a place to hide?
