outer edges of the great cityscape is always kind of a surprise to this city boy

all the amenities of the city but

space

i like noise, trains and traffic, dour faces and congestion, tall buildings staring down at me in disapproving ignorance

it’s the space the bothers me

like being trapped in my head and hearing the sorrow calling my name, luring my ships towards the rocks hidden just under the waves

i’m sure the outskirts are fine

some people are built for the quiet

but not me, not yet, not without her to share the silence with me

she can take the edge off it, dull it so that it slaps and stings but doesn’t cut to the bone

until she and i farm vegetables

peace and quiet are pieces of life i am not prepared for

let the concrete echo the voices back to me in distortion so i don’t feel so alobe