I'm drunk with the lift of night,
running down streets I've never seen.
A dying newspaper fluttering against a wall.
Condemned buildings with boarded windows
and piss-washed doors nailed
Christ,
I need you...
On and on in my footfall rhythm
my side aching,
bleeding down my legs
raw and stinging
I stop.
Huffing and puffing
I turn around and head home,
lightheaded,
seeing flashes in the sky of another world.
Published in The Literary Burlesque- 1/4/11
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