the city workers
dwarves in florescent vests
setting up
bright orange pylons
as they prepare
to shovel asphalt into
treacherous pits
among the bustling
chitinous beetles
i find myself buried between
my coins barely settled
as they swarmed around
i sat as a bus squeezed past
sure i was losing a mirror
or returning to find
fuselage where a car
had once existed

i wish i had brought
some silver with me this morning
as the werewolves snarl
nipping at my heels
the goddamned construction
in a never ending cacophony
the cool wind cutting
through my jacket
as leaves crackle underfoot

vampires and succubi
everywhere i look
sunken eyes staring mournfully
as i shuffle past them
griffons roar beneath
crimson dragons slashing azure
my cask of amontillado
bricked behind orange pylons
a fool wanders fort worth
in a confusion of contusions
lost in languid listlessness