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tiptoeing through the used condoms |
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strewn on the piers |
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off the west side highway |
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sunset behind |
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the skyline of jersey |
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walking towards the water |
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with a fetus holding court in my gut |
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my body highjacked |
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my tits swollen and sore |
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the river has more colors at sunset |
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than my sock drawer ever dreamed of |
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i could wake up screaming sometimes |
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but i don't |
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i could step off the end of this pier but i got |
|
shit to do |
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and an appointment on tuesday |
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to shed uninvited blood and tissue |
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i'll miss you i say |
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to the river to the water |
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to the son or daughter |
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i thought better of |
|
i could fall in love |
|
with jersey at sunset |
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but i leave the view to the rats |
|
and tiptoe back. |
