Let it burn. I set the fires. It'll grow back. It'll grow back better.
Dancing in the Streets
It’s like time was frozen
I could walk among these statues
They did seem pretty unreal
Distorted under personal pampering
Sweat did not emit from pores
Natural odors concealed underneath designer label perfumes
I’d draw in a breath and watch the tiny furnace that sat just within my eyes view blaze
Then settle
The bright yellow fades into a gray ash
Smoke curls about into occult like patterns then disappear into the air
I’d continue my tour of this second
A second of bustling “life”
Everyone holds no real expression on their faces
Just a few painted smiles
Everyone wearing masks
It’s like a masquerade party
Mid-day
Everyday
In the street
I look at this picture
The polished gloss atop plastic coated multifold paper
Not a real masquerade
With its polished marble floor not paper
The world it set ablaze with motion
I flick my cigarette out and watch radiant red circles arc to the ground and then perish
In a shower of red sparks that bounce up with collision of nicotine and asphalt
I close my eyes and watch the dance
“That’s my hometown” He interrupted
“It looks beautiful from here” I said
“It’s a shit hole and crowded as hell” he looked back into the coffee
“Hell is lovely in pictures.” I followed through in comment and drinking
I felt he was about to change the subject
We turned to switch partners.