Cities

Cities are filled with claustrophobia and smog,

With pretending to smile but wanting to swear

Because there’s nowhere to put your elbows without touching strangers.

They are filled with carpets of years old litter

That decorates uneven pavement filled with puddles of motor oil and vomit.

Cities are filled with car horns, the shattering shrieks of sirens

And stifling air that invades your nostrils and makes you cough

As your lungs work rid your body of the petrol poisoned stench you inadvertently inhale.

Cities are full of rain that smears itself on your glasses

Staining them with the filth that is exhaled in dingy clouds of vaporized fuel

By the metal beasts built to carry human burdens.

Cities are full of flashing neon signs that blind the eyes they’re trying to catch

And light pollution that makes every evening shine with a foreboding bloody red on the horizon.

Full of grey buildings that hide other grey buildings,

The ever-dull skies of cities are cramped, blocked out, hidden

Behind the towering man-made jungles populated by prowling business men and bankers.

Cities are aching feet and aching pocket books

And weary legs carrying weary people to the pools of guilt where they can drown

In the pleasure of a burning throat and a foggy mind.

Cities are eyes seemingly veiled in grayscale,

And people lost in a subconscious search for colors not bleached lifeless by a too-hot city sun.

They’re a buzzing restlessness that fills the air

As you toss and turn on lumps that cost extra, and the constant fluffing of dusty pillows

In a futile attempt to escape into dreams of green.