Urbania

There must be more to life—

Graffiti on the walls

Announcing that he loves her.

Marked it on the walls,

Marked it on her with the shiner

She wears around town.

 

There must be more to life—

Windows with gunshot wounds.

I sit and wonder,

Cigarette between my fingers,

Do the windows ever bleed?

Is the glass pane long dead?

 

There must be more to life—

Life plays like a TV with the reception knocked out.

Everything is undefined static.

One day drags into the next without

Any distinction.

 

There must be more to life—

Mascara flakes off onto the tissue

In my hand as I wonder how

I’m going to get out of here—

My Urbania.