Urban Forest

This town smoulders
Under a dull sky.
We don’t have stars.
They got lost,
They ricochet off the graffiti garages,
Breaking shop windows
with their razor shoulders.

I think I will leave,
She says,
Four wolf whistles into
The ten minute wait for a bus.

I’m already gone,
He thinks.
Every time he tries to rise
The thud of the bass pushes him down.

We become black holes,
Skeletal and starved,
A vacuous attempt
To feed off these unyielding streets.

Too many pavements. Not enough concrete
To hold up all the lost souls.

This town lies within us
And we will burn out.

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