Pages of Yesterday

My Neighborhood

Bam goes the brown glasstraces of liquor trickling

from its neck, break

Bang goes the shards of flying fists and tears,

Like wet leaves, fall and don’t make a sound

Bittersweet is the taste of defeat, a sharp mix

Of blood and vodka

Capped in a Smirnoff on the rocks or

Captain Morgan on the plank of desperation

At The Corner, late night fist fights

Cradle myself alone

Peeking through venetian blinds, dust floating to my skin

Tears glimmer at the moonlight

Night crawlers see me through the glass, half full,

Of broken promises, half empty am I when

I only have myself to hear my cry, a hysterical shrill of silence

Sweat dripping into the cold autumn air

Night sways me slow

Back and forth in a cradle, restrained and exposed

Bare and naked on the rotting mulch of summer’s past

Where times were easy and fast my neighborhood didn’t exist

I never had to cooperate with broken hinges…jaws,

Your‘s like titanium never broken

To naïve foreigners

Seldom in this strange city, quaint and serene

This serenity broken by alcoholic binges