lost in these ever changing mazes of chain link fences and angry men in hard hats
showers of sparks and spent water bottles like a bread crumbs left by pollutant little children
it’s already too hot
sweat dripping from the twenty minute walk from rental car to machine
humidity and stagnant air make it all worse for the wear and i tell myself, ten more hours at least maybe longer
who can tell in a sunless place where time and hope have lost all sense of meaning, just another slog through hell
are we jailor or prisoner, i don’t know any longer, one or the other term has been rendered moot by the same old routine
so we continue
ever onward
into the depths from which i fear there may be no escape
maybe we don’t deserve freedom
this is purgatory perhaps
we work of sins until our souls shine slightly less tarnished and then we may take our place with the angels
or sink lower into sin
i know which one i’m picking
down down into the pits
see my friends and family members there
better music, better drink, better company
no sanctimonious bastards need disturb my eternity