Friday, October 10, 2014

cattle town.

another glaring day under the sun,
another restless breath from an otherwise empty chest,
but there you go again.
you're across on the other sidewalk,
or shoulder,
but there you go again.

you're up, you're going through the motions,
because that's what we do.
the streets are overflowing with better promises than you, but i can't stop
following the safety and comfort of familiar company.

i try to hide my face under hats and shades and brims,
 it's better to blend in behind lenses, i find
and in time i've crafted this visage more to finish the sentences i began than anything.
i just want to know where you've been, then again i can't care,
and i can't afford to be so generous.
but i'll wear this silence like a badge before i take you out

we're up, fixing our plates,
because that's what we do.
there's nothing here to eat except our own,
there are no real stars in what amounts, in the end, to a cattle town.
they're feeding on us here,
they're feeding us to us.
we'll be full, but it's a fool of a girl to think
we'll be happy here.

that's a dozen shots in empty parking lots,
another empty bottle reflecting the lights of
another glaring night under the light of the arc sodiums,
but here we go again.
one more swallow, and then we'll be happy here.

i try to hide my face in the shade of night, but i find
it's better to just be forthright, and in the end
we'll find out we've faked it all along.
there's messages on our cell phones everyday.
but we'll go through the motions.
because it's what we do.
we'll go through.
one more swallow
and we'll be happy here
one more
and we'll be happy here.
one more
we'll be happy.