Just Another Dude

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These are the thoughts of an urban dreamer inside a city of reveries, revelations and random nightmares. lmr

 

 
 
Night massages  a  cool  brisk   wind
upon my surface skin,  sends  goose-
bumps &  fine hairs  trembling   like 
reed-thin     junkies in       the breeze.
And these  vibrations  from my i-pod 
make my head bob   in unison   with
with this flickering city. I can almost
forget I'm one more denizen starving
for food,   for warmth,   for kindness,
for attention; forget I'm  just another
artist in this  mecca  full  of  artisans;
forget my shadow is puny  &  it casts
no particular magnificence,  nor is it
towering above the bobbing populace.
I  am just  another dude  inside  this
city, my head packed      with sounds
of  traffic   & solitude   & arias  from 
A Tribe                        Called  Quest. 
 
 
I am as innocuous  as  any      Macy's
window  display, as plain  as  a piece
gray concrete... as  memorable    as a
face  reflected  upon    the glass   of a
speeding limousine.    I am   invisible, 
but for the  smoke rings  I  blow from  
the cold stagnant air boa constricting
around me....      as night    massages
a  cool  brisk   wind     upon   my skin
to  send  goosebumps     & fine   hairs
shivering...  & shimmering like stars.
Maybe we're all the stuff of dust & far
away planets... Maybe we are the sum
of our selfishly separate constellations.
Maybe we   are  as   tremulous  as  the
illusive  sheen of our dreams,     some-
where in the hazy distance,  just out of
                                                    reach.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
copyright © 2016 by L.M. Ross
 
 
Photo by Sebastien Brunet
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