Watch me give away my eyes to broken glass and painted street signs—
Two-cent lipstick on broken mothers whose sequined skirts
Rip their tights and scratch their bones.
To the businessmen in monochromatic suits sitting in spiked chairs
Chaining their wrists to plastic keys and dreaming of jumping off skyscrapers—
But broken elevators lend no hand to top floor flights.
To chain-link fences surrounding basketball courts—
Big dream Jason’s who learned how to strut and shoot
And shoot again.
To empty alleys with crushed crack pipes and graffiti signatures
Stray cats and things and people who left and lost—
Dead end meet and greets to pass the time.
Eyes plastered on every brick that beat the brains out
And fingers rising from the sewer drains ripping skin and souls—
Eyes always open, watching without looking, asking for the time.