Well, it’s late again, but better late than never. It’s day 24 of NaPoWriMo and I’ve just reached the end of one notebook. I’m feeling slightly proud of myself.
Faintly, the smell of self-deception
Seeping through, and the subway
Tunnels invite us in to partake
From the sacrament of the city.
Lighted candles lead the way for
The rats when the pigeons fall asleep
In the dungeons. We carry on over
Interlacing lines, drunk on heartaches
And the shifting shadows of our city.