I Live In A City of Monsters
I live in a city of dinosaurs.
They stand still.
And pretend to be structures of steel and drywall.
But I know the truth.
When everybody is focused on traffic
And tabloid scandals
And the incompetent coffee-boy mixing their frothy rush-hour drinks.
I live in a city of crying geese.
They moan like sinners.
But I know better.
They're all just faking it to ward off the gunmen.
I envy their longevity:
I went hoarse three weeks ago
And I'm surprised I'm not dead yet.
I live in a city of reanimated fossils,
Where I stay skinny so I won't be spotted
Sometimes, there's a crash
In our sidewalk mobs.
Followed by a cry of pain.
Those are the saddest days.
As we move towards the spotted preserved,
Me, along with my bone brothers,
And they go down beneath the sea of crunching marrow
Like a broke-winged bird.
I live in a city of monsters,
With yellow fingernails
And blood shot eyes.
But they whisper the most beautiful things.