Wednesday, July 28, 2010

street dreams

the infantry of ghosts rise from the
concrete.
mine eyes cannot
distinguish the beginning of one
and the end of another.
the pungent aroma
of precipitation loitering
about in my nose as if
it were
a 7-Eleven on
a Saturday night.

with great precision
i signal right,
then left
and right again
my gestures virtually
robotic
constructing a labyrinth
retraced from memory,
patterns
so intricate the
Vitruvian Man would shrug
his shoulder blades
in confusion.

eluding the phantoms
that haunt the
streets' dreams
whilst
the streets dream
dreams,
i discover myself
in that familiar
place.

the unwavering
steel frame merely
soaring above
the blackness,
cloaked in the
velvety quilt of asphalt
soothed
by the dark blue
solace that
has embraced
me in its arms,
tucked away
with the warmth
of a summer's
night.

i am home.
once again.

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