Bay street monsters
Work your soul away
Trade it like a stock
And after 5 o’clock
Let the bums make their merry beds
In the corners
Of manicured high-rises
That block their view
Of those nocturnal hookers
A million centimetres east of here
East of here
It’s where the sun wakes up
It’s where I go to sleep
Daytime exhaustion
Carry me away
Take me to 3AM
Every other night
I have a duty
To fill a black book
With black ink.
Don’t call me poetry
Don’t call me art
I’ll blush and won’t believe you
I’ll just write another failure down
In my blank book
With my blank ink
Because nothing is worth keeping til tomorrow
If tomorrow won’t exist
And nothing is worth keeping
Especially because
I don’t know what I’m doing
I don’t know where I’m going
Is there anywhere to go?
Or is there only here?
Subway stops tell me
I’m on the eastbound tracks
But movement doesn’t exist
And neither does the present
But apparently I’m headed east of here
East of here
It’s where the sun wakes up
It’s where I go to sleep
Daytime exhaustion
Carry me away
Take me to 3AM
Every other night
I have a duty
To fill a black book
With black ink.
Don’t call me poetry
Don’t call me art
I’ll blush and won’t believe you
I’ll just write another failure down
I’ll just pick another scab
I’ll just start another fight
I’ll just never again
Ever have
That glorious Monday.
I regret I had to head back west.