cool hooligans on a rooftop (at Greenpoint, Brooklyn)
babes and burritos in athens @allimaloney
A strand of lights inside peaks out from behind purple curtains
And reveals your existence to strangers on the street below.
Rapunzel doesn’t reside up here, but the stink bugs crawl
And reveal themselves along the strand creating shadows of monsters
Along your spackled walls when they perch upon the tiny light bulbs.
With a tiny breeze your open window rattles violently
And papers, stacked on your floor, scatter to mock and mirror
The neatly lined row of shoes under the tattered Bukowski poster
And the leveled picture frame of Choupette above the bed.
Your angled walls entice a hermit to dwell for hours,
Cross-legged on the wood floor. A stubborn splinter in the ass
And a note jammed under a loose floorboard
Will keep you and me together even after you’re stripped bare
And the long strand of yellow lights is just a pile
Of bulbs in a garbage can with the other trinkets I’d kept,
Hoping that I could relive moments through concert tickets,
Only to throw them away when I moved from you.
Now your walls will house another, and they are eager.
Eager for the next set of posters and the next set of soles
That will dance within you as I once did,
Because spinning in circles, in a beam of sunlight that shot
Across your floor was all I could do to feel alive.
feeling homesick for my old room