it's night now
the sky is smeared with oil
and occasionally shining
looking through to us
at our vast maze of inconvenience,
boredom, aggravation, and arrogance

the streets are filled with small talk and
wandering loners, who find inspiration
to romanticize despair
mumbling their rants and raps and soliloquies
of accepting the absurd till the edge wears off

some are skeletons waiting to break apart
when the time is right, to leave their heads and flesh
behind and shatter

while the animals of the id scream and moan
in their trances of pleasure, of frenzy and dissociation
mindless and proud of their deathlike freedom