Walk the tired grey streets Mind a map of grid lines Notice cracks in the concrete Years of birth on sidewalk tiles “Hey, that one’s like me! born in nineteen-ninety, trod on by fancy feet, slated for replacement by the city.” New Years Day for sidewalk…

I travel light My two feet Take me wherever I want to be North to south East to west I’ve seen it all. You see me and You judge me As you pretend to not see me. But I see you as you peek out…

Every Saturday my lover and I Gathered with the other well-fed volunteers to load meals into a van, and then drive to our stations in Manhattan to hand them out, One-by-one. Mothers pushing strollers with Crack-glazed eyes, and Old men in ill-fitting overcoats lined up…

This week it’s London. Something about those old-fashioned buildings, soothes and calms me down, and I need some relaxation. I don’t relax much in all those beachy areas that others find so popular. No, let me get lost in the city any day. But it’s…

Meh, so I tweaked the concept a little. It’s for inspiration only after all 😛 the jovial wanderer roam the night sky live out in the cold pick fights with comets fights i always win hide myself in cloud & revel in storms my heart…

Who built those eyes That tell me lies From the superficial POV Of your digital lens Which clicks likes Like batting lashes Blush faced emojis Replace blood flushed faces You binge on Biased realities truths washed away by filters Characters in one hundred and forty…

My take on the homeless prompt, was not expecting that I would write this at all. Late night writing magic? Just spent a while googling Mongol culture before I penned this down, to add a little authentic touch to my imagination.   You laugh at…

They say that people live a mere 100 miles away From where they grew up. I can hardly understand it. We summer in the midwest We winter in Mexico Without fail You haven’t lived until you’ve seen The flashes in between of green and blue…

The comfort of a bed The warmth of a blanket Clean water Hot food Shelter from the elements Save from that of surprise Imagine mine, when I found myself out here Where the pavement and the mattress are of the same cloth Double woven asphalt…

I dance with their rules, give them a spin just long enough to get by. To earn a buck, I’ll do what they say. But stay too long, and you’re infiltrated. You start thinking in khaki. Your polo shirt collar gets ’round your mind.  …