I could lash out
with spiteful fury driven wildly screaming into
the dark spots under bridges where my echoes
slap the damp bricks.   Maybe they would
absorb some truth here.

My eyes are dry and
seem to hide behind themselves,
scared of presence.  My mouth waters
for more then more and my stomach
churns at this,
more and more.

I see these people pass as
robots would with flower
heads, their
mechanics clicking the concrete
streets in rhythms far too rhythmical –
a haunting mathematics.