Plastic Asses
Metal-wheel lightning my
only source of sunshine,
birds of prey fall
smoking from the tracks
I wonder what
they’re thinking.
In this little hole in
the wall of the tunnel
unexpected hand on my
shoulder, condescending eyes
watch through the windows
of the cars the wheels
that drum beyond my sky
at night, past
this cage I call home
this city
is not real. I scuttle to
safety
from little laughs,
stupid jokes, air that burns
in my nostrils, my
neighbors are weird.
They eat each other.
New hand on my shoulder,
condescending
hands jerk back, absorb
the recoil
this is it. I wonder what
they’re thinking
these passersby
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