The Commute of Plenty

Oct 13, 2010 15:03

We crawl through the city on broken knees -
Penitent, penitent -

Doing whatever it takes to pay the rent,
From the commute to the office,

Shifting and writhing against each other
Through a maze of crimson and beige,

A daily pilgrimage down the lane of blood and dreams
To the doorstep of grey Gomorrah,

The roulette wheel of plenty.

While across the fields of dust and wheat
Sleepy Sodom is already on its first cigarette break

Bidding the city of angels to wake up already
With all the menace of shrill calls and terse emails.

Is she our sister or our mother?
Either way, we're as close to awake

As we're ever going to get

And as close to hell as we are to heaven -
Like every other day of the week.

poetry & music

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