Not Entirely About Living In New York

I’m sorry for my flaws I appreciate everything you do for me I wish I could always smile at passing children I wish I felt better about myself I wish I saw the light you provide for me The light I voluntarily turn my back from The light I’m suppose to drink As if to keep hydrated. I’m surrounded by quarters and unfinished books I read because I’m searching for affirmation Quarters for clothes to be kept clean. I’m divulgent I parade my flaws I hide, trip, and reveal my flaws I am in constant concern of my own being And a stillness of thought for a mind to be kept clean. The world is a messy place Our mind the raking of leaves The leaves of the world fall and we rake The leaves of the world fall and we rake We fall and awake and fall again. Love is warm, harmless, and stamped Inefficiently weak by the assemblies of faces Swept up by the world’s business of cold linear time Moving like a sad and brutal train. I sit at the station My fingers interlocked pressing against my face Peering through the thicket of my spirit. Hours later, maybe, I am looking up the hill Pulling my elephant. Children circle around my small progress Skipping and laughing. (They don’t care, They just like elephants.) Though, last night, I dreamt I rode a killer whale And so here it dawns on the weakened spirit: That I am the Whale Rider of the Phantom World Wandering through 10th Avenue My flaws in our wake My fist pumped high in the air In the name of a Life Authentic. This all dreamy and wonderful While in the world of machines and mass movement The elephant keeps his slow, tugging gait behind me, Ignorant of dreams.