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Todd Dawson-Cooper Poem
The rain pours down on the city.
A sense of putrid disgust fills the air,
as trash litters the streets
and grime grows in every back alley.
The clouds cast their shadows
and the lack of saturation sucks the life out of everything
and everyone.
The rain adds depth to the highlights and shadows of the world,
making the spray-painted brick walls and cigarette-ridden cracked roads look surreal.
The rain cleanses the earth of it‘s filth.
It‘s the emptiness that makes me feel,
the destroyers of my body.
For all the years of coffees, cigarettes,
opiates and alcohol have numbed me.
My insides feel sick, my organs venal.
My body is being held together by a rope of chains,
and the chains are rusting against my skin.
I often find myself in bed with an old fling or an attractive stranger.
Another night of vigorous intercourse,
makes no difference to me.
They take more pleasure in it than I do,
for even at the end of the night,
I am still
and truly alone in my mind.
Copyright © Todd Dawson-Cooper | Year Posted 2016
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