All of this is temporary*

The City swells with life
& I,
                        insignificant,
stare at the people & the buildings
& the utter lack of meaning,
overwhelmed by purpose:

one must stay busy.

Smoke dances the in rain
                        framed
by the sickly-white, luminescent light
of the street lights:
sentry post for every building.

They are trying to say something,
these buildings, something
more than their designer or
creators ever intended,

but I don’t know what it is
                        any more than they do.

So I flee to the nearest breath of green
& living things;

I tilt my head back,
as I lay down upon the the grass,
& stare at the immense & ancient darkness of

                        the sky…

*“Emnacipatory politics must always destroy the appearance of a ‘natural order’, must reveal what is presented as necessay and inevitable to be a mere contigency, just as it must make what was previpusly deemed impossible seem attainable”– Mark Fisher

Escape

For S

The city lights always invade the night:

I just want to fuck you in pure moonlight
or beneath a furious storm,
but the city forever prevents me.

I dream of our escape, but first
we must learn how to be caged
                                together.