Big apple pie
high in a psychobabble sky.
Just a small fry
adoring the cumuli
while a businessman whines of the money supply.
The buildings; damnifiy.
Bustle on with your city cries —
I’ll take my dirty Levi’s
and self ostracize.
Better off being dirt-streetwise
than wrapped in urban lies.
While the world you bastardize,
I’ll be enjoying a mountain sunrise.
To each their own —
either windblown
or living in a brownstone
but you’re killing the ozone
with your pessimistic undertones.
Tonight, I'll be on a westbound train
waving goodbye to your acid rain;
your poison cocaine;
your pompous champagne.
No more brain drain;
this place has made me insane.
By the time you wake
with a city headache,
worrying about the current outbreak —
I’ll be making my jailbreak.
Eventually, you’ll realize
the vapidity of concrete lies.
If it is freedom you fantasize,
then join me for a moonrise
and drink in these western skies.
February 14, 2024
