Walking through a neon city, spying passing someones pocketing gold pocket watches, silver chains left swinging, perhaps I’ll see a thief tonight. A thief tonight, a watch or wallet gone, a wink of neon light upon an open palm that begs, “Where-?” Walking through a maze, some dark delusion of florescent flickers, subway passages, the sliding hammers of some combination lock, clicking into place each time the hour ticks, perhaps a man will jump tonight. Upon the tracks tonight, perhaps his passing’s just another hour gone away, another hour’s mine tonight. Walking up familiar streets, forgotten happenings of silly, stupid, city things, familiar stupid routine things, forgotten silly person things that happen every day. But I’m still here, still part of your routine; perhaps I’ll see myself tonight. Another nameless someone, walking looking talking to himself, perhaps tonight he’ll feel the neon in his eyes and see in it something new, tonight.
January 18, 2014