Monday, March 31, 2014

Lights Left On - 31/03/2014 (redux)


an off-to-work-this-morning
lover's room
you lie alone in the warm
smell of her sheets
before letting yourself out
without the offered shower
and latch behind you

an office un-neatly after
work, less silent than
those quiet desperations
that fueled it's productivity
just twenty minutes back

laundromats on cold nights
grumbling machinery reeks
stale damp of the shit jobs
and a grubby mental illness

or old factories mapped
in a broken glass history
with pigeon shit topography

empty shiny car parks
echo-wet with clacking heels
of someone else'
hedonistic nightlife

these places
you're not supposed
to linger in
are not those lonely ones

from what you've left behind
see you some in trace-shape
imagining I... remember
liking people, like them
like liking that last light left on

imaginary lives fill my head
rush hour slow motions
a spectrum of living both subtle
and grossly different than mine

in my mind
their laughters
their dreams
their fears
and own ideas

in my mind
such places
are made

convenient fictions
of people
who do not need
back from me

it feels welcome here




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