I can hear the cars on the highway
from my hotel suite.
the tires on the concrete
sound like buzzing bees
all of this rustling and bustling
throughout these city streets
I feel like a stray dog
that hasn't eaten in weeks.

stuck in my own predicament
the product of my hyper vigilance
I made mud pies into rocket ships
unfathomed by the lacking constituents.


© LonesomeMrFixIt