
They’re all retreating to the tropics
Away from the city & the grime
Needing a natural heat source
Freeze to death if we don’t find the time
They’re all retreating to the tropics
Away from the city & the grime
Needing a natural heat source
Freeze to death if we don’t find the time
There’s war out here in these streets
The physical city pulses & seethes
Tamped down by hate of denizens
Facts challenging all that we believe
All of society calling for our attention
While our infrastructure remains unstable
Tragedy & crisis revealed every morning
But I still need to put food on the table
Lost in the silhouette of a shadow
Emerging as the heat begins to recede
We cannot know what the day holds
Only the way our imagination feeds
Getting outside while the city still sleeps
Early, but I need to get air into these lungs
Darkness illuminates my quiet solitude
Exposing the songs we need to be sung
I feel lost & ineffectual most days
But I haven’t given up living yet
Stretching this old body once more
Finding answers once I’ve sweat
Sitting above the town
Talking low in the neon’s glow
Discussing romance & bathtub gin
We’re no experts, save what the shadows know
Rejecting chemical imbalance theories
Sunshine blocked out by the billboards
Late afternoon excursions to avoid reality
A gentle touch to escape the heinous hordes
But the truth cannot be forever skirted
Some days you must wake & simply endure
But the beauty of life will shine on though
With a taste of happiness that’s always pure
I’ve been to the city
But I didn’t like what I saw
There’s no air to breathe
Such congestion of humanity
Infestation should be against the law
Authoritarians canvasing your timeline
Dourly grudging along in their jackboots
Manipulating digital ledgers & statements
Nothing worse than those savages in suits
No, I’ll stay here where Divinity is clear
The minor sophistications are plain to see
Occasionally sidestepping hillbilly nonsense
But at least my soul is still free
I need to escape the city structure
Retreat to a cabin up in the woods
Resolving quiet bouts of sensory overload
No longer at peace in these neighborhoods
Trying to exist without the constant ruckus
I may be no more than a sheep in wolf’s clothing
But I know I need something a bit tamer
To quell these times of depreciation & self-loathing
Times get weird; we must remain in our morals
Eventually we must draw a line in the sand
& to misquote the philosopher Chris Rock
I’m not saying the Unabomber was right, but I understand
Imperial city coins clink in your pocket
Orwellian flaws litter winter’s landscape
Thick fisherman’s sweater to fight the cold
Feigning steps upon the tragic lady’s cape
Black soot marring the evening sky
Told her you were king of Earth, not the salt
Misdirection will only get you so far in life
Lies & deception will still remain your fault
Manicured city walls
Stomping through summer puddles
Curiosities of a finer life
Scorching rays, can’t help but befuddle
Recoiling to the chaffy shade
Searching for the talisman of the storm
Knowing we’re in for a futile calm
Who could’ve predicted it’d be this warm
But we keep on pushing through
Wicking precipitation from her summer gown
Effort to remain a head above
A damn shame if we perish & drown
Image by Terri Cnudde from Pixabay
So you think you want to be wild
But you’ve never left the city gates
Living within such structure
Organizing a lush, manicured fate
Pushing forth the semblance of influence
Yet, outwardly needing to create a scene
Dreaming of an adventurous existence
& what breaking free could possibly mean
Dissidents wishing for anarchy
Amid the noise at the city’s edge
Marching toward the inevitable
With blinders afixed & a solemn pledge
Roustabouts & preachers agreeing before light
Yet the jury will always cry out for more
Cannot tolerate the president’s folly
The juxtaposition of hippies going to war