Its the remake

There is a frightened calm
settled through my veins and single thinking

Stripes of red and white

And I cant think to write


Horror on the TV

When gore is something to laugh at but then it rots

You dont say

This city thing
maybe
is the subway

1) Another reason to
live just like yourself

or

2)
Just to let you get that
much more fucked up

Like where streets are full
of oppurtunistic faces,
and do they smile when vauge
fascinations float to the top
of what i think and where i thought
I might like to be one day?

In three seconds

There was a woman standing
Tall and hard for the bus

A railroad spike in sidewalk
She held her black sleeve arm limp
Left along her waste to grip her wrist

Origami craned her neck
Like a tongue could trace her folds
And lines that traced her face

Down Whitney
Long for her ride to work
She stood strong as the rising sun

Her elegance to blind