A jackhammer
pounded away,
crushing and
splitting
the concrete
under my windows.
I was lucky though
to have been
drinking,
heavily, the night
before
and the pounding
didn’t
bother me. Initially.
The sun. The
violence of the
sun pushing its way
into my room so
early,
Holding me up and
taking
my sleep wallet.
The train. The crowds.
The incredibly
beautiful women
walking to work
downtown
and their sexy heels
clacking on
the sidewalk.
The noise of the
street.
Pulsating in my
head.
The line for
breakfast.
The coffee maker.
The keyboards
clacking.
It’s violent.
The woman near me
on the
phone,
“Sir, Sir, Sir, if
I could just,… Sir!”
The noise is
abusive and cruel.
I’d rather be
sleeping and
dreaming in the
quiet
fields of my
imagination.
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