Sweeter Streets

Like retribution
at the end
of the world
or lips on
a face
you used to kiss
crowds of dull eyes
in dim lit tunnels
and streets
I can’t keep gaze
on any face
when
I’m always looking
for yours

but I don’t know

where do you fit in

in those crowds
those tunnels
those streets
crowded
crowded streets
I wander around
block
after
block
and
they all start to look the same
same coffee
same diner
same face
I stop
it must not be your block
and,
I always do this,
I go inside one of those diners,
epileptic neon lights,
and I sit down,
stark checkered booth,
and I order some coffee
and the waitresses,
they all look the same,
unadorned tags,
and they all ask my name
and they say
are you lost
and I tell them I am
so they
invite me over
cause they feel sorry for me
and they make me something to eat
let me shower off a bit
and let me into their beds
and let me into their mouths
cause they feel sorry for me
but I just laugh
in their faces
and they think I’m sick
and they feel worse for me
and like retribution
at the end of the world
or lips
on a face
you used to kiss
I leave
laughing my way home
block
after block
not wanting
to go
because

home is a dim lit tunnel
and I can’t sleep
anymore
home is a pillow
home is a blanket
maybe a sheet
home is all suffering,
all over me